Breaking free
by Lovetoread75
Summary: Johnny's home life is horrible, but soon things are about to change. Will it be for better or for worse? Read to find out. Set after the book Johnny and Dally survive. Romance in later chapters. Please read and review. All reviews, favorites/follow are much appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello guys, so I'm writing again after a break. Please read and review. Your reviews really mean a lot to me and they keep me writing.**

Johnny Cade was sixteen years old and he lived with his mother and father in run down part of Tulsa, Oklahoma, the East side. He had jet black hair that he wore longer than most guys, with shaggy bangs that were partially covering his big brown eyes. He was small for his age, skinny and he was always wearing his jean jacket. He always had this suspicious look on his face - he didn't trust anybody except for his closest friends.

You may think that he had a sweet life being an only child, but that was far from the truth. In fact it was the opposite. Both of his parents drank heavily, and his dad liked to spank Johnny with his leather belt. He did so even when he was sober, but it was especially harsh when he was drunk. His mother always yelled at him and could slap him around as well. Both of his parents were constantly telling him that he was a waste of space, that he never amounted to anything and never would.

Johnny had mixed feelings about the beatings. Sometimes he hated his parents and sometimes he felt like maybe it was his fault. Maybe he deserved it. When the beatings had started when he was just a little kid, he used to cry after each beating. He also used to cry himself to sleep at night. Now that he was older, he didn't cry anymore. He took it like a man, sometimes feeling disdain for his father and sometimes feeling guilt. In any case, he was used to being treated this way. Used to wearing long sleeves to cover the bruises, scars and marks from the beatings, used to lying when people asked him what had happened to his eye, telling them he'd fallen or gotten into a fight. He was used to it alright, and he accepted the fact that life's was not the same for everyone, and some people got the short end of the stick.

Johnny was timid and shy. He didn't talk much. He just kept quiet even around his friends. In spite of what was happening to him at home, he didn't become bitter. He still tried to see good in any person or any situation.

Johnny didn't do well in school. It was hard since he was always hurting, and it hurt to sit down. Plus he couldn't concentrate and focus since he had too much on his mind. He was always thinking about the beatings and his parents and how he hated his life. He couldn't wait till he was eighteen. Then he could be free. He could be on his own. But even then, he realized, he would need money to go on his own and not depend on his parents anymore. He would need to get a job. He never even considered going to college since his grades were so low.

Only Johnny's closest friends knew about the beatings. His group of friends consisted of his gang. Six people that he knew since grade school and who were like family to him.

On Monday Johnny got home as usual around 3:30 in the afternoon. He went into his room, passing his mother, who was in the living room, but didn't even say "hi" to him. The only time she ever spoke to him was if she wanted to yell at him for something or without any reason what so ever.

Johnny's mother was a petite, slender woman with short brown curly hair that was shoulder length. She had big brown eyes that were full of bitterness and hatred. She rarely spoke, unless something was bothering her. And when something bothered her then all hell broke loose. She yelled to no end. It was surprising how much noise and screaming could come out of such a little person.

So today Johnny was just happy she did not go off at him for something he did or didn't do. He was happy to just follow his routine and go to his room and start on his homework. Every day he prayed and hoped that his father wouldn't touch him when he got home. Most of the time these hopes didn't come true.

The door to Johnny's room didn't have a lock. Johnny's dad took it out long time ago and promised Johnny he would do it again if Johnny tried to install a new one. So Johnny wasn't safe even in his own room. His dad could come in and give him a beating any time and any day.

Today was one of those days. Johnny was doing his homework hoping he would avoid a beating. He heard his father get home.

"Hey Johnny, you hear me, boy? Go get me a beer," his dad yelled in a few minutes. His speech was slurred so he was drunk already, Johnny thought. His request was so ridiculous, because he was so much closer to the fridge than Johnny was. His dad was on the couch in the living room, which was next to the kitchen where the fridge was, and Johnny was in his room, which was all the way down the hallway. All the same Johnny got up, went to the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge.

When he appeared in the living room with the beer bottle in hand and tried giving it to his father, his father gave him a dirty look, like as if he was disgusted with Johnny. "I said two beers. Can you ever get anything right?" His dad's voice roared in the air.

"But you didn't say two…" Johnny started, but caught himself in time, realizing that it was no use to argue with his dad, especially when he was drunk. But Johnny stopped himself too late, his father was already enraged.

"Are you talking back to me, boy?" he yelled, getting up and grabbing Johnny by the collar of his shirt, then holding Johnny with one hand and getting his belt undone with the other hand.

Johnny thought of running, but it would be useless. He couldn't run to his room, because there was no lock on the door, and his dad could still get him there, and he couldn't just run out of the house, because eventually he would have to come back and his father would get him then , so Johnny decided to just get it over with right then.

"Ok, pull your pants off," his dad instructed. Johnny did as told and then felt the belt connecting with his bare skin. He winced in pain. Johnny's dad was really big. His muscles were huge. He used to be a bouncer when he was young. He had a really big forehead, and a pair of small brown eyes that were always half-closed when he was drunk. He always had a smirk on his face, and he always had a look of disgust on his face when he was talking to Johnny or when he was beating him up.

Johnny's father continued hitting him until Johnny started seeing dark spots. He never cried though. In fact, he had not made a sound. His father turned him around, grabbed him by his collar again and punched him in the stomach once, then again and again. Johnny doubled over in pain. Then his dad kicked him from the back and then shoved him against the wall and gave more punches in the stomach and the ribs. At this point Johnny lost his balance and fell on the floor. That made his dad laugh, and he started kicking Johnny with his feet. Johnny tried to get up, but instead everything went black. Once his dad realized that Johnny was unconscious, he stopped and went back to the couch to his beers.

When Johnny came to, he realized that he was on the floor in the living room. At first he didn't remember what had happened, but then the events that had led him to being here flooded his mind. He tried to sit up, but it hurt. In fact everything really hurt. Even to raise his arm was painful. He wondered if he had any broken ribs. Finally, he was able to get up and wobbled to his room. When he got there he just crashed on the bed.

The next morning Johnny couldn't get out of bed. His whole body was in pain from the beating the day before. He contemplated skipping school, but that would mean staying home with his mother and being at risk of being slapped around again. And besides, he could see his friends at school.

Johnny wondered if he had any bruises on his face or if he had a black eye or something. That would mean people at school would notice, and he would have to lie once again about how he got the bruises and the cuts on his face. Johnny looked in the mirror and was relieved. His face didn't have any bruises or cuts. His dad knew not to hit him in the face, because people would see the black eyes and bruises every other day and sooner or later they'd figure out what was going on.

Johnny thought of calling child protection services on his parents many times, but always decided against it. If he called social services, they would deny his parents' custody, and he would be send to the boys' home and that was not where he wanted to end up. He heard plenty of stories about how horrible it could get in a boys' home. Plus he would never see his friends if he was taken away. So he decided to just take the beatings, but stay here where his friends were.

So Johnny headed for school, omitting breakfast. There was nothing to eat in the house anyway. The day was uneventful. Johnny dragged himself from class to class. He dreaded having to sit down in a chair. Sitting hurt like hell, but he managed to tolerate the pain. It was History class, and the teacher was explaining something about the war. But Johnny couldn't concentrate to save his life. He was still thinking about his father and his mother and what did he do to deserve that. He was thinking about other people and their families, normal families where the parents loved and cared about their children. He would give anything to have a family like that.

During lunch he met up with Ponyboy, Two-Bit and Steve. He tried to act natural so the guys wouldn't notice or suspect anything. After school they all went to Curtis. Soon Dallas showed up. So Johnny still tried to act like nothing happened, but there is no fooling Dal. He sensed that Johnny was not ok.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and Johnny just shrugged, biting his nails and looking out the window.

"Is it your old man again?" Dally asked. Johnny nodded, while still staring out the window. He hated to admit that he was treated this way even to his friends.

"Do you want me to take care of it?" Dal asked after a pause. "I can get some of Tim's people and we can do a lot of damage to your dad or maybe superman and Steve will join me. Bet your dad will leave you alone after that."

"I don't think he will," Johnny replied tiredly. "I think he'll only be harder on me after that," he sighed.

"As you wish," Dal said hesitantly, "but just say a word and I'll take care of it. I think your dad needs a little of his own medicine," he added.


	2. Chapter 2

**So I had some time on my hands today thought I'd update. Thanks to everyone that's reading, enjoy.**

 **I do not own The Outsiders**

Johnny managed to go the whole week without a beating. He knew that wouldn't last and was expecting a beating any time now. On Friday night he was supposed to meet Ponyboy and Dally at 7:00 to go to the movies. They were supposed to meet at Pony's house.

That afternoon after school Johnny was carrying his textbooks to his room when the phone rang. So he temporarily put the books on the kitchen table and went to answer the phone. He took the call and went to his room, forgetting about his textbooks still sitting on the kitchen table.

He remembered quickly when his father got home and started yelling right away. "Get your ass here, boy! Why did you leave your filthy stuff on my kitchen table? I eat there." Johnny realized that his dad was already drunk. He must've stopped by the bar after work. Johnny's father threw the books on the floor. "Who let you make the mess in here?" he kept yelling. That last comment about the mess didn't make any sense considering there were cigarette butts and empty beer bottles everywhere scattered all around the floor and the table.

"Get here, you hear me, boy?" Johnny knew that if he stayed in his room his dad would come in and get him, and the beating would only get worse. So he slowly dragged himself to the kitchen, where his dad already waited with the belt in his hand.

When he saw Johnny, he was next to him in one leap. He pulled Johnny's pants down and started hitting him with the belt. Johnny winced in pain but didn't let a sound out. After his dad was done with the belt he started pushing Johnny against the wall. Johnny could hardly pull his pants back up before getting a blow in the jaw.

Johnny's dad had Johnny pinned against the wall and was slugging him in the stomach and the chest, and this time he couldn't control himself and punched Johnny in the face. Johnny's nose started to bleed. Johnny tried to get out of his dad's grasp. He made one step to the side. Then his father shoved him with all his strength so Johnny fell on his back hitting his head against the edge of the metal chair. He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip in pain, but still didn't cry or scream. He was just laying there on his back next to the chair. His head and his lip were bleeding. His dad gave one more blow in the stomach. He was breathing heavily and he was completely enraged.

Finally, Johnny managed to pull himself up and ran past his dad through the living room and then outside. His father ran outside right after Johnny. "I'll show you, boy how to run from me," he yelled.

As Johnny ran outside he was surprised to see Dally and Pony running up to him. He was running in their direction as his dad caught up with him and grabbed him by his shirt. He then proceeded to punch him in the stomach.

"Stop it, you son of a bitch," Dallas yelled. Johnny's father only laughed and hit Johnny harder. As Dally and Ponyboy were running closer to Johnny and his dad, he let go of Johnny's shirt abruptly, and Johnny collapsed on the ground, while his dad went inside laughing.

Dally and Pony helped Johnny up. In the corner of his eye Johnny saw a woman in the window of the house next to his. She made eye contact with Johnny, then quickly closed the curtains.

"What are you doing here?" Johnny asked the guys, embarrassed that they had to witness the beating.

"Well, you weren't there at seven so we waited and then decided to come and get you," Pony explained simply. "Besides, we thought maybe you needed some help."

"Thanks," Johnny said, "if it wasn't for you he'd keep beating me."

Dally looked at Johnny with concern as his lip was swollen and was bleeding. His head was bleeding too and there was a black and blue mark forming around his left eye. Dally felt disgusted with Johnny's dad. He realized that the bruises and injuries that they were able to see - like the head or the black eye were just a tip of the iceberg, and there were so many more bruises and scars that were hidden under Johnny's clothes.

"C'mon," Pony said, running his fingers through his hair, "let's go to my place. We'll clean you up."

"No you guys go ahead, you wanted to see that movie. It starts at eight. You can still make it."

"We'll see it some other time," Dal said in a tone of voice that you just don't argue with. "C'mon," he said again, "you don't want to get those cuts infected."

So they went to Curtis place. They cleaned up Johnny's wounds and gave him ice for his eye. Johnny and Dally stayed the night. As Johnny was sleeping on the couch in the living room, Dally was tossing and turning on the floor. He couldn't fall asleep. He was thinking about Johnny. He couldn't stand seeing the kid so beat up all the time. So he promised himself that he would get back at Johnny's dad even if it was against Johnny's wishes.

On weekends Johnny usually stayed out of the house. He usually met up with the gang at the Curtis and they played some football or went to the bowling alley. On weekends his dad was home the whole day, and Johnny needed to avoid a beating. So this weekend he stayed at the Curtis, but Sunday night he went back home, while Dally had come up with a plan as to how he was going to get at Johnny's dad.

On Monday night Dallas entered Bucks, where he knew he could find Tim. As he entered he saw Tim sitting by the bar. "Shepard," Dally shook his hand. Tim didn't appear drunk, at least not yet. "You need something?" Shepard asked, sensing that Dally was looking for him for a reason. Dallas nodded in response.

"Lemme guess, you need me to jump someone." Tim said taking a sip of his beer.

"Well, close, but not exactly." Dally responded while ordering a beer for himself.

"I'm listening," Tim said.

"Well, I need two of your people."

"What's the job?" Tim asked.

"Well, you know Cade kid that hangs out with us sometimes?"

"Yeah, I know who you are talking about."

"He always gets beat up by his folks. He's small so he can't exactly fight back. I've seen his dad do so much damage that his whole body was a bleeding mess. And it happens on a regular basis. He doesn't want me to do anything to his dad, but I think the bastard needs a little of his own medicine. So that's what I need two of your men for. I think that would be enough to take his old man. I just want him hurt badly so he knows not to mess with the kid again."

Tim looked thoughtful for a moment taking a drag on his cigarette.

"So are you in?" Dallas asked sipping his beer.

"Sure," Tim replied, "when do you want it?"

"Next weekend. The kid is always out of the house on weekends so we can go in and do a lot of damage."

"Sure thing. I'll go and take one of my men with me. So it'll be three of us against him. Let's meet here at twelve on Saturday and then we'll go from here."

"Thanks, man." Dallas shook Tim's hand again. "I knew I could count on you."

Dallas felt relieved. He felt like he was taking care of business. The kid was bruised up all the time, and Dallas couldn't just witness that and do nothing about it. He was taking care of business and that felt great.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone, so here is the next chappie, hope you enjoy.**

 **I do not own The Outsiders**

The week was uneventful except for Johnny showing up with new bruises and scars. Dallas couldn't wait till the weekend so he could proceed with his plan. Finally, it was Saturday and Johnny stayed out of his house as always. He went to the Curtis. Everyone except Dallas was there. Dallas however, had different plans. He didn't tell anyone what he was doing. Just said he was busy, and nobody questioned him about it.

At twelve sharp Dallas was at Buck's. Tim and another guy were waiting for him.

"This is Alex," Tim introduced the other guy briefly. "Dallas." Dal nodded slightly.

"I know who you are." Alex responded. Dallas just took a drag on his cigarette coolly. Everybody knew who he was.

They got into Tim's car and drove to Johnny's house. They parked a little further, away from the house, so that Johnny's father wouldn't get suspicious seeing a strange car, and walked up to the house. Dal went to ring the bell, while the other two hid around the corner, once again to prevent Johnny's dad from suspecting anything.

Dallas rang the bell and ran around the corner, hoping Johnny's dad would come out looking for who it was. Sure enough Johnny's dad opened the door. Seeing nobody, he came out to the porch to see who it was. That's when all three attacked him. Dallas grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the yard. Johnny's dad was cursing badly and his speech was slurred - he was drunk.

Tim and Alex took turns hitting Johnny's dad in the stomach and in the ribs. Dallas kept holding him, preventing him from making any movement. They had him pinned against the wall and kept punching him with all their strength. They punched him in the stomach again then in the jaw and the nose. His nose started to bleed.

"So how does it feel? Now you'll know not to touch Johnny again," Dallas yelled. He wanted to take out his belt and give Johnny's dad a spanking just like he gave Johnny, but he let it go.

Finally, when Johnny's dad's face was bleeding all over, they stopped. He could hardly walk, and had to support himself by leaning against the wall as he walked.

"You better think twice before you touch Johnny again," Dallas yelled. To his surprise, Johnny's dad only laughed in response and cursed them out, after which Dallas delivered a few more blows in his jaw, and that seemed to shut him up. For now anyway.

They left Johnny's place satisfied by the outcome. They had accomplished exactly what they had set out to accomplish.

"Thanks, man," Dally said to Tim, shaking his hand. "You too." He shook Alex's hand next. Dallas hated going against Johnny's wishes, but he hoped that Johnny's dad would not touch him after this, and Johnny would realize that Dally did the right thing.

On Sunday night Johnny finally went home after staying away for the whole weekend. He usually did that – come home only to sleep and go to school in the morning, to stay out of the house as much as possible. So this Sunday, as usual, it was already 10:00 pm when he got home.

He was planning to go right to his room and go to bed. That was his routine every weekend. And it worked. It saved him from the beating. Today, however, was different. Johnny opened the door and was going to go through the living room and into his room, but his dad was standing in the hallway blocking his way. "You little shit," his dad's voice roared, "you come here now!" His belt was already in his hand. Johnny looked at his dad's black eye and swollen lip and he put it together right away. He realized what Dallas had done. He also realized that he was going to get it now worse than he ever gotten it before.

"Come here." Johnny's dad voce roared again. He grabbed Johnny and started hitting him with the belt. He hit him on the back and shoulders too. Then he punched him in the stomach, and when Johnny doubled over in pain he punched his back. Johnny felt like he wanted to punch him back, but he knew that would only make his dad madder and he would only hit him harder so Johnny didn't punch back. Johnny's dad hit him in the stomach again and he doubled over in pain again, at that moment his dad grabbed an empty beer bottle, since there were empty beer bottles everywhere, and he hit Johnny on the head with it. There was a noise as the glass broke against Johnny's head and the sharp edge that was still in Johnny's dad's hand cut through Johnny's head, leaving a huge bleeding gash.

Finally, his dad shoved him, so Johnny fell on the floor. Then his dad started kicking him with his feet. "You think you are going to send some of your hoodlums here to beat _me_ up? You think I care about that? You little shit," he yelled, kicking Johnny with his feet with all his strength.

After he beat Johnny almost unconscious, he stopped and went to the room, giving Johnny one last look of complete disgust, like Johnny was the lowest scum on earth.

Johnny was laying there on the floor biting his lip and cringing in pain. He was trying hard to prevent tears from spilling from his eyes. He realized what Dal had done and he wished he hadn't done that. Didn't he tell Dallas that it would be no use. However, he couldn't be mad at Dallas. He realized why he did what he did. It actually felt kind of nice to know that Dallas cared enough about Johnny to go through with something like this. Johnny smiled to himself in spite of the pain. His hero, the one he looked up to cared about him. Then he forced himself to get up and wobbled to his room.

The next day Dal went to the Curtis and everyone was there except for Johnny. Two-Bit told Dallas that Johnny didn't come to school. Dal took it as a bad sign. He remembered that Johnny had said he didn't think beating up his dad would help, but only make things worse. He was worried that that's what had happened. On the other hand, he thought that the message to his dad was clear - they would beat him up again if he ever touched Johnny again, but that was a bluff. They couldn't actually go and beat up Johnny's father each and every time he beat Johnny. That would be too much. So Dallas was really worried if he made it worse for Johnny.

So, Dallas, Ponyboy and Two-Bit decided to go to Johnny's house to see if he was there and if he was hurt. Dallas told them about beating Johnny's father, and they seemed to approve. They felt for a long time that something had to be done. Dallas hated coming back to Johnny's house after what had happened, but he had no choice. He _had to_ find Johnny and see if he was hurt.

They approached Johnny's house and rang the bell.

"Who the hell is it?" They heard Johnny's mother yell. "We are not expecting visitors." Then they heard footsteps approaching the door. Johnny's mother opened the door, but only a crack. Just enough to stick her head out. "What do you hoodlums want?" she hissed with disdain.

"Is Johnny here?" Ponyboy asked, "we need to see him."

"You don't say," Johnny's mother smirked. "The little shit's not here, so beat it." She slammed the door.

"Let's check the lot," Dally suggested. On the way to the lot, they passed by the park.

There were kids playing ball and jump rope. Happy kids, Dallas thought, kids that can enjoy their childhood, kids that are not beaten up by their parents, kids that are not afraid that every moment of their life they can be clobbered with the belt.

As they expected Johnny was at the lot. It was already dark and he started a fire, so they could see his face clearly, as the light from the fire illuminated it. They could clearly see a black eye and a busted lip and blood smudged all over the face as if he tried to wipe it off with the back of his hand or with his sleeve and just smudged it. It was chilly out, and he was wearing only a t-shirt. That must be why he started that fire.

He wasn't wearing long sleeves. Probably didn't get a chance to put his jacket on before getting out of the house. This way the marks on his arms were clearly seen. Old scars and marks from previous beatings, and fresh ones from the current one.

Johnny was just sitting there, his head in his hands. It was no point asking him what had happened, because that was quite obvious. Ponyboy came up closer to him, and put his hand on his shoulder. Johnny flinched. It was just a reflex.

"Sorry, man," Pony said. "That bad, huh?" he added. Johnny nodded without looking up, then he looked up, and there was this look of despair, defeat in his eyes. His eyes were red like he had been crying, but he wasn't crying now. Dallas noticed that Johnny's hands were trembling.

Then Two-Bit came up to him and patted his hand. "C'mon, Johnny, it's going to be ok."

"Ok?" he asked. "How can this ever be ok? What have I done to deserve it?" He sounded really bitter.

"Nothing, of course. Of course you did nothing," Ponyboy said, "but bad things happen even to good people sometimes." He stopped talking then, because she realized there was nothing he could say to make this better.

Pony stood a little to the side, and he was pissed off. At Johnny's parents, of course. Now that even beating Johnny's father didn't help, but actually made it even worse, he felt like there was nothing they could do to help Johnny get out of this horrible pain that his parents were putting him through.

"Alright," he finally said, "let's go. We've got to clean up your cuts. You are staying at my house tonight. Can you walk ok?" Johnny nodded. They put out the fire, and started walking towards the Curtis house.

As they were cleaning up Johnny's wounds, he cringed, but remained silent as the iodine made contact with the wounds. Darry cleaned up the face and the visible wounds on Johnny's arms. He also cleaned up and bandaged up the gash on Johnny's head.

Everybody watched in shock and in silence as Johnny took his shirt off revealing the bloody mess and bruises on his back and his chest. Dallas tried not to show his shock for Johnny's sake. Truth be told Dally felt awful. He felt like it was his fault. Johnny had told him not to beat up his dad, but Dallas thought he knew better, and decided to beat him up anyway. He really thought Johnny's dad would stop after that. Apparently, he couldn't be more wrong. Dally felt like he had to say something, but his pride stopped him from apologizing. Finally he cleared his throat and said, "I didn't mean to kid, I thought he'd really stop after the damage we caused."

"It's fine" Johnny replied, "I ain't mad or anything. Just one more beating no big deal". Dally just looked away. He hated being so helpless. He wished desperately there was something he could do, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing and it drove him mad.

Darry gave Johnny a clean shirt. It had long sleeves, and Johnny was glad that Darry was smart enough to know how Johnny felt about others seeing his wounds and scars.

The next morning Johnny woke up pretty early. He looked at his surroundings as the events from the previous night flooded his mind. His whole body felt sore.

Johnny walked into the kitchen, and saw that Darry was already up, and he was making pancakes. "Morning," he greeted, "did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, sure," He looked at the pile of freshly made pancakes on a big plate. He smelled the aroma, and felt jealous. Why couldn't his family be like that? But his family wasn't like that, and nobody was making pancakes at Johnny's house.

There was an awkward silence, but then Ponyboy walked into the kitchen. "Morning," he greeted, while rubbing his eyes.

"I better go now. Thanks for everything," Johnny said quickly.

"Oh, no you are not going anywhere. You are staying for breakfast. Then we'll walk to school together" Ponyboy said.


	4. Chapter 4

The following Saturday Johnny was going to leave his house like he usually did on weekends, in order to avoid being beaten. It was about nine a.m. Johnny looked out the window. It seemed like a really nice day. Johnny opened the window and stuck his head out. He liked how the warm spring breeze felt against t his skin. Johnny's parents were drinking the night before so they were not up yet, and Johnny needed to get out before they were up.

He got dressed and was about to leave, when the door bell rang. Confused he came to the door. "Who is it?" he asked.

"CPS," a female voice answered. "Is this the residence of Mr. Jonathan Cade?"

"Yeah, it is."

"We are here, because of a recent child abuse call we received. Can we come in?" Johnny opened the door, not saying anything, and starting to nervously bite his nails. Two people walked in, and introduced themselves.

"Hi, are you Jonathan?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hi, I'm Mrs. Collins and this is Mr. Hoover. We have received an anonymous call indicating that you have been abused by your parents. We are going to evaluate your living conditions and interview you and your parents." Johnny instantly remembered when his father was beating him outside of the house a woman in the other house looking out the window. She must be the one that called CPS.

At this point the door to the kitchen opened and Johnny's dad walked in, wearing only his boxers. He clearly had a hangover, and he had a headache. "What's all this noise?" Johnny's father demanded. "Who the hell is this?" he barked, pointing to the social workers. He didn't even care that he wasn't wearing anything decent.

"I am Mrs. Collins and this is Mr. Hoover," Mrs. Collins repeated. "We are from CPS - child protective services. We have received a call recently, indicating child abuse and endangerment in this household. We are authorized by the state to assess …"

"This is _my_ house," Mr. Cade's voice roared before she could finish her sentence, "and I don't need no shit social workers here." The social workers seemed unfazed by Mr. Cade's outburst. They pushed past him, and were making their way to the kitchen, which was closest to the door.

They were clearly appalled by what they saw – empty beer bottles everywhere, ashes from the cigarettes on the floor, full ashtrays with cigarette butts and the smell. They were nearly gagging. It was a mixture of smell of beer, smoke and garbage that had not been taken out. They opened the fridge. It was empty, except for a six pack of beer on one of the shelves. Johnny was watching in silence, leaning against the wall in the kitchen, and biting his nails.

The social workers were now going from the kitchen and into the living room, while Johnny's father was still in the kitchen. "You, little shit," he yelled, "You called these pieces of shit on me! You are going to pay when they leave. You will know better next time." Then he stopped talking abruptly realizing that what he just said confirms that he beats Johnny, but it was too late the social workers heard him.

To be truthful, Johnny was terrified of what would happen when the social workers leave. "After all the trouble you caused us," his dad continued, "and all the money we spent to raise you, this is how you appreciate it," he kept yelling. Upon hearing this, the social workers exchanged worried looks. They were starting to get a picture of who they were dealing with. They had noticed Johnny's bruises and his black eye right away when they walked in, and now Mr. Cade literally confessed to beating his child, when he threatened that Johnny would pay when the social workers leave.

In the living room, the social workers observed the same picture as in the kitchen – beer bottles everywhere, cigarette butts on the floor. In addition, all the furniture was off center. It looked like someone bumped into it and moved it around.

"Hey Johnny," Mr. Hoover spoke up, "can you show us your room?" Johnny gasped nervously and led them to his room, which was all the way at the end of the hallway. They followed him to the small room. There was only a simple desk by the window –the one that doesn't have any drawers. There was a small bed next to the wall, and a really small dresser, no mirror or anything like that. It caught their attention that the blanket that was covering the bed was kind of thin and it had holes in several places.

The room didn't look like an average teenager's room. There were no posters on the walls, no sports items such as a baseball bat or glove. The room seemed to convey that whoever occupied it was not very happy.

"Hey son, we need to talk to you," Mr. Hoover said carefully, as to not scare Johnny, "and you need to be completely honest with us."

"Does your father hit you?" Mrs. Collins asked without beating around the bush. "These bruises that you have, did he do that? You can be completely honest with us. We are here only to help."

Johnny was silent. He was terrified of being put to a boys' home, maybe even more so than being beaten by his dad. There was an awkward silence, and then he nodded, looking down.

"C'mon you need to go with us. You can't stay in this house," Mr. Hoover said. Johnny felt every muscle of his body tense up. They were taking him already, right away. He thought it would take some time for them to get their findings to their agency or whatever it was, and then come back and get him, but they were taking him right away.

"We heard what your father just said to you. We don't need any more evidence. It's clear that it's not safe for you to stay here. And we don't want anything bad happen to you after we leave," Mrs. Collins explained. Johnny felt like he lost his ability to speak. He opened his mouth, but the words didn't come out. Finally, he cleared his throat and said in a really small voice, "Where are you taking me? What's going to happen to me?"

"We'll take you to the facility for kids whose parents' custody had been revoked. It's a boys' home, and it's rather nice. Certainly, better conditions than here. You will be staying there until we can find a nice foster family for you."

"So why don't you go pack some of your belongings? We are going to wait here and make sure your dad is not going to hurt you." Mr. Hoover advised.

"Can I go say good-bye to my fiends first?" Johnny found the courage to ask.

"That wouldn't be possible right now, but you can call them once you are all settled down, and they can come visit you," Mrs. Collins informed Johnny.

So Johnny tried to pack whatever few belongings that he had. Once he was ready, he got out of his room. They all started walking towards the door. As they were passing Mr. Cade in the kitchen, he tried to block their way.

"We are taking the child with us," Mrs. Collins said, looking at him with disgust.

"You can't take him," Mr. Cade barked.

"Oh, sure we can," Mr. Hoover responded, walking right past Johnny's dad.

"And don't think that this is the end of it for you either. Charges will be pressed," Mrs. Collins added. When Johnny was passing his dad on the way to the exit, Mr. Cade was cursing at him and was calling him names. Johnny walked past him, following the social workers, his head down.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok here 's chapter 5. Thank you everyone for reading and thank you Pony'sgirlfriend and FrankElza for reviewing.**

Johnny and social workers got in, and Mr. Hoover started the car. The place they were taking him to was not nearby. He kept looking out the window at the scenery they were passing by. It was early spring and it was really nice out. Everything was blooming. It felt like the new beginning after the cold winter. All Johnny wanted was to be outside with his friends. Maybe they'd play some basketball or maybe just sit around and talk and stuff, go to the movies or to the fair. But he was locked up in this car, the car that was taking him away from his abusers, but also from his friends.

Finally, they reached their destination. Mr. Hoover parked the car and motioned for Johnny to get out. He thought that the building they were about to enter resembled a school in some ways. Anyway, they went in, and Mrs. Collins told Johnny to follow her. It was a wide hallway with doors on both sides. Kind of like the hospital, but bigger. It was pretty clean, and there were even some paintings on the walls. There were a few kids in the hallway. Some were talking, and some were watching TV. Finally, Mrs. Collins stopped by one of the doors, which was an office. "Wait for me here," she instructed Johnny, "I'll find out which room is available for you." She disappeared behind the door.

Johnny couldn't think straight. Everything was happening too fast. He realized he would have to share a room with some other people, and he was not looking forward to that. He was not looking forward to meeting new people all together. He was shy and timid, and he did not like interacting with people outside of his circle of friends. Why couldn't this be a regular weekend and he would be at Curtis or they would be playing basketball in the school yard?

He was not sure if he was mad at the neighbor who placed the call to CPS. On one hand he was really mad at her, but on the other hand he was tired from all the beatings and he wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. It was nice to know that he wasn't going to be beaten anymore.

"Johnny do you hear me?" Mrs. Collins' voice intruded into Johnny's thoughts. He was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn't notice how she got out of the office.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, turning his attention to her.

"Follow me," she instructed. They walked through the hallway and stopped by the door that said room 11. Johnny felt his heart beat faster in anticipation of meeting new people – his roommates. But when Mrs. Collins knocked on the door, nobody answered, so she opened the door to see that the room was empty.

"So this is going to be your room," Mrs. Collins stated the obvious. "Leave your bag here for now, and follow me." Johnny did as told. They turned the corner, and Johnny saw another office. The door was opened, and he could see two men sitting at two separate desks.

"C'mon in, have a seat," one of the men prompted, and Mrs. Collins pushed Johnny forward slightly. His heart started beating faster again. Now he had to meet all these strangers.

"Hi, I'm Mr. Jefferson. I will conduct your interview," the guy said.

"What?" Johnny said confused.

"Well, we have to interview you so we have all the information about you, which will make your stay here a pleasant experience, and so that we can find an appropriate foster home for you. Have a seat."

Johnny didn't like at all where this was going. An interview? For what? Couldn't Mrs. Collins just tell him what happened? He didn't trust this Mr. Jefferson guy. He looked a little intimidating and not friendly. He looked bored in a way. To him, this was just another case, just another guy with screwed up family.

Johnny took a seat.

"So, what is your name?" was the first question, and Johnny thought it was stupid, since Mrs. Collins was talking to him before, and told him Johnny's name and address.

"Johnny Cade," he answered nevertheless.

"Who do you live with?" Mr. Jefferson asked next, tapping his fingers on the desk impatiently.

"My parents," Johnny answered, clearing his throat. He was so nervous that his mouth was dry. He really didn't want to talk about his parents, but he knew he was going to have to talk about them and the beatings. That was the whole reason he was brought here. He was so nervous he couldn't look the guy in the eyes.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" was the next question.

"No," Johnny answered simply. He wanted this questioning to be over, but he had a feeling this was only the beginning, and he was right.  
"How are your parents?" Mr. Jefferson asked next, "are they ok parents?" Johnny knew what Mr. Jefferson was driving at, but he was unable to say anything. So he just looked at Mr. Jefferson, question in his eyes.

"C'mon," Mr. Jefferson said after a pause, "you can be honest with us. We are here to help you. Do you parents… um… do they hit you?" Johnny said nothing, but swallowed hard, and nodded slightly. Here it was in the open, Johnny thought, for the whole world to know that he was being beaten by his parents. He hoped they were not going to give him pity. He would rather be hated than pitied.

"How often do they hit you?" was the next thing Mr. Jefferson asked. What was it to him, Johnny thought, it was just his job. He'd seen thousands of kids like him, and Johnny was not his first and not his last. At the end of the day he would go back home to his wife and his kids, forgetting all Johnny's problems, while Johnny was the one stuck with his problems, stuck in this place.

"How often?" Mr. Jefferson repeated somewhat impatiently.

"Often enough," Johnny responded, "but mostly when they are drunk and stuff."

"So they drink?"

"Yeah," Johnny responded, and swallowed hard again. He felt really uncomfortable talking about these things. Even his closest friends didn't know all the details. They just knew that Johnny got hit and slapped around at home, but here this complete stranger wanted the nuances and details and Johnny had no choice, but give them to him.

"How often do they drink?" Mr. Jefferson continued, and then after seeing Johnny's hesitation, he softened up a bit. "Look son, you can be completely honest with me. We won't use this information to hurt you. This is only for your own good. Your parents were abusing you, and that's wrong. They are going to be punished for what they've been doing to you. So c'mon, I know it's uncomfortable for you, but I need you to answer these questions. So how often are they drunk?"

"Pretty much every day," Johnny answered in a low voice.

"So they beat you every day then?"

"Well, sometimes they are passed out by the time I get home, so then they don't beat me on that day. I also stay at my fiends' houses a lot, especially on the weekends."

"Do _you_ drink?" Mr. Jefferson changed the subject all of the sudden. Johnny was taken aback by this question, but at least they weren't talking about his parents anymore.

"No, I don't drink," he answered honestly. He had tried a beer once, and it tasted funny, so he wasn't interested. And besides, he'd seen enough at home what alcohol did to people. He'd rather die than become like his parents, so he swore to never drink. To not have even a drop of alcohol in him.

"Good," Mr. Jefferson approved, "how about school? Do you go to school?" Johnny was still unable to make eye contact with him. He looked everywhere else – at the walls, at the carpet, anywhere except for Mr. Jefferson's eyes, and Mr. Jefferson was annoyed by that, Johnny could tell.

"Yeah, I go to school," he finally replied.

"How do you do in school?" Mr. Jefferson asked and Johnny sighed — he hated this.

"Not that good," he said quietly.

"Why not?" Jesus, Johnny thought, this guy just never stopped, did he? What did it matter anyway? They said they were here to help, but why were they asking all these questions?

"I dunno," Johnny replied, "I try, but I guess I'm just not that good at it or something. A lot of times though I still keep thinking about what's going on at home, while I'm in school, and then I end up missing what the teacher was saying."

"Well, now you'll be going to school here," Mr. Jefferson said.

"Here?" Johnny sounded puzzled.

"Yeah, we have some of the best teachers on staff. I'm sure they'll help you out with whatever problems you have."

Then Mr. Jefferson stretched his arm, and handed Johnny a thin brochure. Johnny took it, question in his eyes.

"This describes your rights and responsibilities, while you are on our premises. Look it over and make sure to follow all the rules." Johnny felt like rolling his eyes, but sopped himself from doing so.

"Alright for now," Mr. Jefferson said, clearing his throat, "you can go. I assume Mrs. Collins showed you your room."

"Yes, sir," Johnny replied, getting up.

Johnny quickly found his way back to room 11. His roommates still weren't there. It was Saturday, and Johnny figured that they probably had visitors.

The room was relatively small, but bigger than Johnny's room at home. Figures, Johnny thought, this is for four guys not one. There were two bunk beds by the window. There was also one big closet by the door to be shared by all four residents of the room. Johnny tried one of the beds. It wasn't that great, but it was more comfortable than his bed at home.

Johnny sat down, trying to calm down. So many thoughts were running through his mind. He missed his friends, but at the same time he felt good knowing he wouldn't be hit here, he thought about what was going to happen to his parents, he wondered who his roommates were and how they were going to react to him being here. He also thought about his friends visiting him here. Who knows, he thought, maybe the foster parents will be nice, maybe this wasn't so bad after all. There were too many thoughts flooding his mind. He felt almost dizzy. In order to distract himself from his thoughts, Johnny started to unpack, putting, whatever few items that he had, in the closet.

After about twenty minutes since Johnny got to his room, there was a knock on the door. Johnny opened it. There was a tall guy in the doorway. He was really tall, and he had kind of a funny haircut. That's what Johnny noticed about him.

"Jonathan Cade?" the guy asked.

"Yes, sir," Johnny answered.

"Please come with me." What now? Johnny thought. He hoped he wouldn't have to answer any more stupid questions. He had enough for one day, he thought. Little did he know that what was about to happen was worse.

They went to another office, and were greeted by a guy holding a camera. What's that for? Johnny wondered.

"Listen, Johnny," the guy that brought him there spoke up, "listen, we know what you are about to do is hard, but you need to do it." Johnny was still confused, and the guy continued. "There will be charges pressed by against your parents. We need all the evidence we can get and we… um… we need to take pictures of your bruises, scars and other marks from the beatings." Johnny gasped for air upon hearing this. He literally couldn't breathe. They were going to take pictures of … _that_. Did that mean he would have to take his shirt off?

"Here," the photographer pointed to a small section of the room that had black curtains around it, kind of like at the doctor's office, so nobody form the outside could see what was going on inside.

"C'mon son, I know it isn't easy, but it needs to be done," the photographer said. First he took pictures of Johnny's black eye and busted lip, then Johnny had to remove the bandages on his arms and his head. The photographer explained that once they were done taking pictures of the wounds, he'd go to the nurse and have fresh bandages applied to his wounds. Johnny was literally shaking while the photographer was working. Then Johnny had to take his shirt off. He had to show his wounds to a stranger.

He thought about all the people that will be looking at these pictures during his parents' trial. He didn't want that. He didn't want anyone to see. He was so ashamed.

"C'mon son," the photographer prompted. In a way Johnny wanted his parents to go to prison. So many times after being beat up, he had thought about how he'd want things to be fair and he wished that something or somebody would prevent this from happening to him. Now he remembered those thoughts, thinking that finally it was going to be fair, and his parents wouldn't hurt him anymore, and they would actually be punished for their actions. Johnny thought about that and took off his shirt.

The photographer gasped at what he saw. There was practically no clear spot. Even when it was still bandaged up on the few large wounds, the rest of it was a bloody mess with old and new marks from the beatings on Johnny's back, chest and stomach. The photographer started to take the bandages off, but his hand started shaking, and Johnny noticed that. He wanted this to be over, he felt so ashamed and humiliated.

After the photographer finally finished taking pictures, the photographer showed him where the nurse's office was. Johnny went in there cringing – yet another person to see his wounds. The nurse was a young woman maybe in her early twenties. She had a good disposition about her. She gasped when she saw what she was supposed to do. Carefully she applied bandages to the wounds on Johnny's arms, then he removed his shirt, and she visibly paled. She was on the verge of tears, Johnny could tell. When she was done, Johnny thanked her and was about to walk out, when she pulled him towards her and gave him a hug. "I'm so sorry, whoever did this to you will go straight to hell," she whispered. Johnny didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything, and walked out the door.

After taking these pictures and seeing the nurse, Johnny wasn't ready to go back to his room right away. He was in no mood to meet strangers now, and he was sure that his roommates were back by now. So he went outside to get some fresh air and calm down a bit. He felt better once he was outside. His hands stopped shaking, and he was able to breathe easier.

After he felt that he was calm enough, Johnny trudged back inside. He stopped for a while when he reached room 11. Here we go, he thought, what if they are some kind of bullies? What if they beat me senseless even worse than my dad did? He had no choice and opened the door.


	6. Chapter 6

As he entered, three guys that were playing cards, turned to him. All eyes were on him now. Two of the guys were sitting on one of the beds and the third one had his chair pulled up to the bed so he could be comfortable playing. One blond guy who had really long legs, and you could tell that he was really tall even when he was sitting down. He had a crew cut and he looked to be about fifteen. The other two looked younger. Maybe thirteen or fourteen. One of them had short brown hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a Beatles t-shirt and jeans. The other one had longer black hair and tan skin. He was sitting his back towards the door, but he turned around when Johnny came in.

There was an awkward silence, then the blond guy spoke up, "so you are the new guy?" he asked Johnny.

"Yeah," Johnny nodded.

"You get that bed." – He pointed to the lower level bed across from the one on which they were playing.

"Ok," Johnny nodded again, and sat down on the bed. He had already unpacked earlier, so there was nothing for him to do. He felt stupid just sitting there.

"What's your name?" the tall one spoke up again.

"Johnny."

"I'm Mark," he said, "and this is Nick." He pointed to the one with the Beatles t-shirt, "and that's is Michael."

"Ok," Johnny replied, and an awkward silence filled the room once again.

They finished their game, and were about to start a new round.

"You play poker?" Michael asked.

"Sure," Johnny replied. He was still a little shaky from taking those pictures.

"C'mon, I'll deal you in," Michael's scratchy voice broke into Johnny's thoughts.

Johnny pulled up a chair and sat next to Michael, taking his cards.

"So what happened?" Michael asked, putting some of his cards onto the bed.

"What do you mean?" Johnny asked, knowing full well what he meant.

"What happened? Why are you here?" Johnny cleared his throat not knowing what to say. He really didn't want to talk about his beatings to these strangers. He ran his fingers though his hair, and remained silent.

"Are you going to go all secretive on us?" Michael said with a smirk. "We'll find out anyway sooner or later. So you can be conceited and try to keep secrets, but we'll find out anyway."

"C'mon, Mike," Mark stopped him. "He isn't conceited. He just met us. Maybe he just doesn't want to talk about it or maybe he's just shy." Michael snickered, yet putting another card on the bed. "I bet that's it – he's shy," he laughed.

"Maybe," Mark spoke again, "if we tell him what happened to each of us, and why we are here then he'll be more comfortable to tell us why he is here?"

"Ok, fair deal," Nick stated, putting his cards down.

"I'll start," Mark said. "My dad," he paused and all of the sudden got this serious and grave look on his face, "he died in Vietnam, and my mom, she couldn't take it. She got depressed, lost her job, stopped going out, stopped cooking or doing anything really. Our house went to foreclosure. She had to move in with her parents. That's when the state got me."

"I'm sorry," Johnny said, putting his cards down. Here, he thought, was a truly legitimate reason why this guy was here. His parents were nice people, his dad was a hero. Why life is so unfair? He thought. Here are good people, and they are subjected to loss and grief, and there were his parents, alcoholics, good for nothings, but nothing bad happened to them. They seemed to enjoy their alcoholic lives.

"My mom died of cancer," Michael's voice intruded into Johnny's thoughts. "She was struggling for a long time. My dad was taking care of her, and all his time was spent on her. He hardly knew I was there. When she died, he couldn't take care of me, and so I ended up here." Again Johnny noticed how unfair this situation was.

"Well, my parents," Nick spoke up, "they are both alive and well. They used to beat the crap out of me. So I called the state authorities on them. That's how I ended up here. I don't really like this place all that much, but it's ok. It's better than being hit every time I turn around."

Johnny once again felt the need for air. So child abuse was that common that even one of his roommates had to be victim of child abuse. He instantly felt closer to Nick.

"Yeah," he sighed, his head down, "my situation is like that too. They were hitting me, and my neighbor called the state."

"I feel for you," Nick replied, patting Johnny's hand. "You'll be ok here," he added.

"So how long have you guys been here?" Johnny asked, while inspecting his cards. "Did they, like, try to find foster parents for you?"

"Yeah they promise that to everyone," Nick said, card game forgotten. He now turned around entirely towards Johnny and was looking right at him. "Don't get your hopes up," he said. "Most foster parents want young kids – two or three years old, so they can raise them the way they want. They want cute adorable kids to play around with. Nobody wants a teen that is already set in his ways, and has baggage of broken home or shitty parents. So like I said, don't get your hopes up." Johnny bit his lip – so he most likely wouldn't get foster parents.

"How old are you anyway?" Nick added after a pause.

"Sixteen," Johnny answered, shuffling the cards even though they weren't playing anymore. "What about all of you guys? How old are you?" Johnny asked. He usually didn't ask many questions to people that he just met, but his curiosity got the best o him so he asked.

"Nick and I both fourteen, Mark here is fifteen" Michael replied.

"And how long have you been here?"

"I've been here for two years already, Michael said, "and Mark's been here a year and Nick a little under a year."

"So in all that time no foster parents?" Johnny asked, leaning deeper into his chair, and biting his nails.

"They placed me once, but it lasted only for two weeks," Michael said.

"What was the problem?"

"The wife wanted a kid, and the husband didn't want one. At the end she gave in, and they sent me back."

"Can they do that?" Johnny asked, still biting his nails.

"Apparently they can, since they did. But in any case, I'd rather stay here than where I'm not waned."

"How is school?" Johnny asked, changing the subject.

"It's all right," Mark replied, "boring – no chicks so you can imagine. Sometimes I even find myself listening to whatever junk they are talking about. C'mon," he added, looking at his watch, "it's time for lunch, let's go."

So Johnny went with them. On the way to the cafeteria Johnny got a chance to see other kids. They all flooded the hallways going to the cafeteria as well. Some of them his roommates said "hi" to, and introduced Johnny to them. One thing Johnny noticed about them— a lot of them had this look in their eyes. Somewhat confused, lost look, almost scared. Others had a bitter 'I don't give a damn, I hate the world' look. Looking at them made Johnny wonder how he would look like after staying here for a while, and from what his roommates told him about foster parents wanting only the young kids, Johnny prepared himself for staying a long while.

Finally, they reached the cafeteria. Johnny didn't have much of an appetite though. Everything happened so fast. He was taken only this morning, and already it seemed like it's been weeks. He wanted to call his friends. He missed them already, and part of him wished that he was still there free to hang out with his fiends whenever he wanted to. But part of him was happy that he knew for sure he wouldn't get beaten today. And he had to admit that was a nice feeling, a really nice feeling indeed.

After lunch Johnny asked where the phone was, and Mark showed him in the lobby right by the security desk. Johnny dialed number. "Hello," Johnny said, leaning on the wall by the phone booth. "Hi Darry, it's me, Johnny."

"What's up?" Darry asked, "I was wondering where you were since it's the weekend, and you are usually here on the weekends. Hope you are not at home. You have enough bruises and black eyes already. Get your ass here in no time."

"No Dar," Johnny replied, feeling a bit nervous again as he had to tell Darry what happened, and it was like reliving the whole thing again. "No, I'm not at home, and I bet a million bucks you won't guess where I am."

"Well, don't tell me you ran way."

"No, that's not it," Johnny replied, "I'm here at a boys' home. The social workers came and got me this morning, my neighbor saw my dad beat me outside and called social services. So I won't be hanging out with you today." He could feel Darry's shock on the other side of the line.

Then finally Darry spoke. "So they just took you right away?" He asked.

"Yep, they just looked at my stupid house, and my dad had a hangover, so the child protective services people said it wasn't safe for me to stay there, and took me right away. Said the charges will be pressed against my folks and they'll go to prison. I dunno if I want to push it that far as to actually throw them in prison."

There was a pause again. Darry couldn't believe that after all Johnny's parents had done to him, he was still kind enough that he didn't want for them to go to prison. "Oh, C'mon Johnny, of course they deserve to go to prison. Anyway," Darry said changing the subject, "can we visit you at this place?"

"Yep, the visitations are allowed every weekend, and I get two phone calls per week."

"Ok, we'll be there tomorrow. What's the address of the place?" Johnny gave Darry the address and directions how to get to the boys' home.

"How are they treating you there so far? Do you hate it?"

"It's not too bad so far. I share a room with three other guys, but they seem ok. The food sucks though. And there is school. Anyway, I miss you guys," Johnny added after a pause.

"Well, you'll see us tomorrow. We'll be there by noon. Is that ok?"

"Yep, that would be great."

"So I'll see you tomorrow then," Darry said.

"See you tomorrow," Johnny replied.

When Johnny got back to his room, his roommates were gathered around the desk. What are they doing? Johnny wondered. When he came closer, he saw that they were looking at some baseball cards. He noticed Mark was staring at one card in particular. "My dad got me this one before he left for Vietnam," Mark said in a low voice, almost a whisper.

So Johnny joined them for a little while, but he had a huge headache. He wanted to take a nap. It was still early, but he thought he'd at least lie down. "Hey guys, I'm not feeling all that well, I'm going to lie down," he said to the guys, and went to his bed. They only nodded and went back to what they were doing.

Johnny woke up, because someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes and saw Mark's tall figure towering over him.

"C'mon, man, it's dinner time," he said, "you slept all afternoon." Johnny rubbed his eyes, stretched and then followed Mark into the hallway. The other two must've left already, because they weren't in the room. Johnny still didn't have much of an appetite. He wanted it to be Sunday already, so he could see his friends.

Later that night Johnny went outside to get some air. It was dark already, and he could see beautiful stars shining in the sky. For a brief moment Johnny wondered what would it be like to be one of these stars – so bright and shiny, so enigmatic, yet at the same time so cold and indifferent. He stood there, outside, looking at the stars, and his nerves gradually calmed down. He stood there for a while, and then turned around and went inside.

On Sunday morning Johnny went to breakfast with his roommates. He barely touched his food though. It was oatmeal, but it was too thick, and as far as Johnny was concerned, it was uneatable, and besides his mind was on something else. He couldn't wait to see his friends.

At around one in the afternoon, right after lunch Johnny and the guys were in the room playing poker, when there was a knock on the door. Nick opened the door, and a guard stuck his head in. "Cade?" He asked.

"That's me," Johnny replied.

"You have visitors."

Johnny literally leaped to the door and ran to the visitation room. There he saw Dally, Ponyboy, Darry, Soda, Two-Bit and Steve. He came up closer to them. "Hi you guys, you made it."

"I told you we would, didn't I? How are you holding up?" Darry said.

"I'm doing ok."

"Hang in there," Dally replied.

"So how are they treating you here?" Ponyboy asked.

"So far so good. I got three roommates, they seem ok."

"But this is just temporary, right?" Ponyboy interrupted, "they'll get you foster parents soon."

"Yeah, about that, I was told not to get my hopes up. My roommates have been here for a year and two years, and still haven't been placed."

"How come?" Soda asked.

"Well, they all want little cute, adorable kids. Nobody wants a moody teenager."

"That sucks," Dally replied.

"Well, don't give up hope. Maybe they'll find someone for you soon," Ponyboy offered.

"So what do they do to kill time here?" Dally asked.

"It's not much, but we can shoot some hoops if you are up for that? I'll ask my roommates to join, and I wanted to ask you to bring me some books next time." Johnny wasn't that much into reading, but it was something to do to pass the time. There are only so many poker games that one can play.

"Books?" Dally sounded puzzled, "what kind?"

"Suspense," Johnny answered.

"Sure thing."

"Ok I'm going to get the ball, and my roommates. You guys wait here." Johnny left, but he returned in about five minutes with the ball and three guys following him.

After the introductions, they all went to the back yard, where the baskets were. Johnny really enjoyed playing with his friends.

It was getting close to 5:00 p.m., which was dinner time, and the end of visiting hours. Johnny's friends said their good-byes and promised to visit next weekend. They wished that they could take Johnny for ice cream or to the movies, but the boys' home didn't allow anybody off the premises, because they were the boys' home responsibility now. All in all it was still nice to visit Johnny on the premises, and know that he was not going to be beaten tonight or any other night for that matter.


	7. Chapter 7

A police car pulled up in front of 235 Green Street and, a policeman got out of the car. He came up to the door and rang the bell. There was no answer. He rang the bell again. He heard loud cursing inside, and the voice behind the door.

"Who the hell is it?"

"Police, open up," the policeman, lieutenant Rogers said, trying to stay calm and not react to the curses he just heard. The door opened up slowly, and Mr. Cade stuck his head out. Then he opened the door, so the policeman came inside. He saw Mrs. Cade wobble into the kitchen. Both she and her husband were clearly drunk.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cade you are both under arrest for child abuse and endangerment. Please put your hands behind your back."

"What's that?" Mr. Cade barked, "what's that little shit doing to us? After all the trouble we go through to raise him up, to provide for hm."

"Put your hands behind your back," lieutenant Rogers repeated, "you are constantly beating and maltreating your son. You are now under arrest."

"I am not maltreating him," Mr. Cade slurred, "I'm just giving him some discipline. He deserves that."

Lieutenant was tired of talking to these drunks. He was shocked that there was absolutely no remorse on their part for what they had been doing. They had the nerve to defend themselves. He was done talking to them. He handcuffed both of them and led them to the police car.

Mr. Cade was cursing throughout the whole time and during the ride, in spite of, lieutenant Rogers telling him to be quiet.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you," lieutenant Rogers read their rights to them.

They were brought to the jail house, and led to a cell. The handcuffs were removed. "For now you are staying in the same cell. You will be assigned a public defender, and you'll speak to him in a couple of hours. After that Mrs. Cade will be transferred to the women's division," lieutenant informed them. They were still drunk, and the reality of what was going on still eluded them.

The cell was small – one bed on each side and the toilet in the corner. Since both of them were still drunk, they lay on the beds and fell asleep.

A few hours passed, and Mr. and Mrs. Cade were woken up by the guard coming into the cell. They both woke up from the noise he made unlocking the cell.

"Follow me," he instructed. They were led to a room, where a man sat at a small desk. His briefcase was on the desk, opened, and he was looking over some papers. He got up when the Cades entered the room.

"I'm Mr. Brown," he introduced himself, "I am assigned to be your public defender." He did not shake their hands, because he wasn't sympathetic to their situation at all.

Mr. Brown looked like he was in his fifties. His hair was thinning, and there were bald spots on his head. He wore a perfectly ironed brown suit, and small round glasses were sitting on his nose. He looked like a pro, who really knew his business. Over the years he'd seen many gruesome cases. Yet this case was one of the worst ones. He was assigned to be Mr. and Mrs. Cade's attorney, but in all honesty he couldn't see winning this case. He was hoping to advise them on the best course of action, which in this case would be confession. They, however, had a different idea.

They sat down opposite the lawyer, and Mr. Cade spoke up first.

"So when can we get out of here?" he said. "This whole shit is one huge mistake. I'm sure you understand what I 'm talking about. I was just giving the kid a bit of discipline. The little punk called the state on me, and now we are here. So when can we go home?" His wife was nodding the whole time he spoke.

"Mr. Cade," the lawyer said gravely, "according to the files that were given to me, you beat your son _severely_ , (he emphasized severely)nearly every day. Also you and your wife both have a drinking problem, and according to the files your home is not in the condition to raise a minor. All this is far more than a little discipline. It constitutes child abuse and endangerment. The best course of action I can recommend is confession. That may reduce the number of years you are sentenced to."

"What are you talking about, years?" Mr. Cade barked in disbelief. "You are our lawyer. You are supposed to defend us. It's all just one big misunderstanding," he kept mumbling, "I was just giving him a little discipline for his own good."

"That boy doesn't know right from wrong," Mrs. Cade spoke for the first time.

"Let me explain to you how it works," Mr. Brown said, taking more papers out of his briefcase, and trying, but failing to keep the disgust, he felt towards these two, out of his voice. "What you have been doing to your son constitutes abuse and child endangerment. There will be a trial in five weeks. Until then if you have money for bail, you can stay home, if you don't have money for bail, you'll stay here."

"What do you mean we'll stay here?" Mr. Cade interrupted, but the lawyer continued.

"We have photographs of the injuries you caused your son. We will also question your son's friends. Two of them witnessed you beating your son .They will testify at the trial. Johnny will testify too. The DA offered a deal, and if you confess you, Mr. Cade can be charged with assault in the 2nd degree, which constitutes felony class D, and the sentence can sentenced to five years in prison…"

"What are you talking about?" Mr. Cade was mad, "are you telling me I'm going to go to prison for five years? You are my lawyer. You are supposed to defend me."

"If you take the DA's deal, your sentence can be reduced to five years in prison. If you don't take the deal, and go to trial, during the trial they will prove that this is assault in the 2nd degree or even in the 1st degree, which is felony class D or class B, and the sentence can be up to seven or up to twenty five years in prison. All they have to prove is that there was _intent_ on your part to physically injure your son, and there clearly was intent on your part. They will also prove that the beatings were constant throughout the life of your son, and like I said they have two witnesses to confirm that…"

"Stop!" Mr. Cade barked, "I don't understand all these words - assault, felony. Just tell me what's going to happen, and what you, as my lawyer, will do to make sure I don't go to prison."

"There is not much I _can_ do." Mr. Brown said, trying once again to keep his disgust out of his tone of voice. "Like I said, all they need to prove is that you _intentionally_ caused physical injury to your son. Depending on how the trial goes you can be sentenced to up to seven or up to twenty five years in prison."

"You got to be kidding me," Mr. Cade interrupted, not letting Mr. Brown finish.

"I'm afraid, I am not kidding at all. If you take the DA's deal your sentence will be reduced to five years".

"No, I'm damn sure I'm not taking no deal for five years. Let it go to trial, and you better defend me. That's what they are paying you to do."

"I am only here to advise you on your best course of action, and I strongly recommend that you take the DA's deal."

"You are actually serious," Johnny's dad said in disbelief, the seriousness of the situation finally getting through to him.

"I am very, very serious," Mr. Brown stated with finality, putting the papers back into his briefcase.

"What about me?" Mr. Cade's wife asked – fear clearly in her voice.

"According to your son, you, on several occasions, slapped him around too. Also you'd witnessed your husband beating your son, and you didn't interfere or try to make your husband stop. You will be charged with assault in the 3rd degree. This is a misdemeanor class A, and the sentence is up to one year in prison plus fines. In addition, both of you will be denied custody of your son.

"But I can't just go to prison," Mrs. Cade started to protest, but she was met by the stern look on the lawyer's face, the look that you just couldn't argue with. Then she started crying. "After all the trouble we went through," she was mumbling through sobs, "this is how he's repaying us. I can't… I just can't go to prison."

"I'm afraid I can't be of further assistance," Mr. Brown said, closing his briefcase. "Have a good day," he said, frowning slightly at crying Mrs. Cade. "You should've realized earlier that your actions have consequences," he said dryly.

He left, and the guard came in to get Mr. and Mrs. Cade. This time they were led to separate cells. Mr. Cade stayed in the cell they were in before, and Mrs. Cade was led to the women's cell on the other side.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, here is the next chappie. Thanks everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited. It really means a lot. Anyway here we go, enjoy.**

Three weeks passed by almost uneventfully. Johnny was getting used to living at the boys' home. He was getting used to the routine of going to breakfast, lunch and dinner, as well as, to attending his classes. School was pretty boring—just like Mark said it would be.

Johnny's friends visited him every weekend, and that's what saved the day for him. Today, however, was different— he was called to the office, even though he was supposed to be in class. When he entered the office, Mr. Jefferson and Mrs. Collins were there.

"Hi Johnny," they greeted, "take a seat."

"Hello Mr. Jefferson, Mrs. Collins," Johnny replied, sitting down, wondering what this was about. He hadn't done anything wrong. He attended all of his classes, and didn't get into fights. "So, Johnny," Mr. Jefferson stated, "how are you doing these days?"

"I'm alright," Johnny replied, "getting used to staying here."

"Well," Mr. Jefferson said, smiling like he was about to deliver some good news. "Well, how would you like it if you didn't have to stay here anymore?"

"What do you mean?" Johnny asked, confused. They weren't going to send him back to his parents were they? That would kill him.

"We found a nice foster family for you," Mr. Jefferson said. He said it like he was expecting Johnny to be overjoyed.

"A foster family?" Johnny mumbled.

"Yes," Mr. Jefferson replied, "you will have a real family. You won't have to stay here anymore."

Johnny remembered how when he just got there, he hoped that he would be placed with a nice foster family. However, now that he finally started getting used to all the changes that living in a boys' home required, and he was just falling into the routine, he didn't want new changes, meeting new people and having to get used to new environment and new rules all over again.

"What's the matter?" Mrs. Collins asked, noticing Johnny's less than enthusiastic reaction, "you don't like the news?"

"They are really nice people," Mr. Jefferson added.

"It's not that I don't like the news," Johnny said hesitantly, while avoiding Mr. Jefferson's and Mrs. Collins' gaze, and staring into the window instead. "It's just …" he trailed off, "it's just that I am just starting to get used to being here, now I'm going to have to start all over again, getting used to something new."

"I see," Mrs. Collins said, "I can see how it may seem a little uncomfortable at first, but once you settle down, it will be much better than living here. Just so you know we do background checks on everyone who applies to be foster parents. Their record is clean, and they are really nice to talk to. They specifically wanted a sixteen year old, and you fit that category. Again, it maybe a little uncomfortable at first, but in the long run it's best for you."

"So when do I go?" Johnny asked nervousness in his voice.

"Well, they should be here in about half an hour. They'll talk to you, and make their final decision. If they decide to take you, which I'm sure they will, then we'll fill out all the paperwork, which should take about an hour and then you will go with them to your foster home."

"Do they have other foster kids?" Johnny asked, because he heard stories about foster parents that would take a lot of kids so they could get aid money from the government, but they spent the money on themselves instead of on the kids.

"No, you'll be the only one. C'mon, you can go to your room now. I'll come get you when they get here."

Johnny got up and left without saying another word. He was really apprehensive about meeting his foster parents. He also wondered what kind of questions they were going to ask him. He hoped it wouldn't be about his parents and how they were beating him. He was done talking about that. It was bad enough that he had to talk about it with Mr. Jefferson and Mrs. Collins, and then he also had to take those pictures. That was just awful, so he really hoped that these foster parents wouldn't ask him about that.

Half an hour passed, and Mrs. Collins knocked on the door of room 11.

"Come in," Johnny said, and Mrs. Collins stuck her head in.

"C'mon Johnny, they are here. I'm sure you are going to like them, and they will definitely like you." Johnny followed Mrs. Collins, his heart beating fast in anticipation.

When he came in, he saw a woman probably in her forties and a man in his late forties. The woman had blond hair, running down her shoulders, and blue eyes. At the moment she had a pleasant, friendly look on her face. The guy seemed to have really broad shoulders. He had dark hair and light brown eyes. He looked a little apprehensive.

The woman smiled at Johnny, and the guy put his hand on top of hers affectionately.

"Hi," the woman greeted, "you must be Johnny. I am Mrs. Thomas, but you can call me Linda, and this is my husband Sam."

"Hello," Johnny replied, shaking their hands.

"First of all," the woman began, "I want to say that Mrs. Collins informed us about what your family situation was, and we are really sorry about what happened to you." Johnny just nodded, acknowledging what they were saying, but not knowing what to say to that.

"We really think you are a good fit, but we would just like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind," Linda continued, giving Johnny another friendly smile.

"Ok," Johnny nodded again.

"How are you doing in school?" Linda asked. Here we go again, Johnny thought, and started biting his nails. He looked over Mr. and Mrs. Thomas shoulders and into an opened window. "Not so good," he mumbled, still not looking at them, "but I started doing a little better since I've been here." That was the truth. As his mind was not on his family situation anymore, Johnny was able to concentrate better. He even got a B on his math quiz.

"It's ok, don't worry about it," the man said, "We'll help you with your school work, if you need help."

"Do you like to throw parties?" the woman asked. Johnny cleared his throat. He realized where this conversation was going — they were trying to make sure that they were getting a good deal.

"Sometimes I go to my friends' parties," Johnny said honestly, leaning against the back of his chair, "but if you mean loud parties with drugs and alcohol, it's nothing like that."

"Do you drink?" Mr. Thomas asked.

"No," Johnny replied quickly to that one. 'I don't want to be like my old man,' he wanted to add, but didn't.

"Do you like animals?" Mrs. Thomas asked next.

"Sure," Johnny replied, "I've always wanted a puppy, but my parents wouldn't get me one."

"Well, we have two cats and a dog," Linda said, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind at all," Johnny replied, looking her in the eyes for the first time.

"Well, let us take care of all the paperwork, and we'll get you in about an hour or so."

"Ok," Johnny said.

Linda motioned for Mrs. Collins to come closer to her with the paperwork, while Johnny went back to his room. He was excited and nervous at the same time. Scared even. The couple seemed nice. They were polite, they liked animals and disliked drinking — seemed like a good deal, but going to a new school, meeting new people again, starting all over again was the part that Johnny really hated.

Johnny was sitting on his bed when his roommates Nick, Mark and Michael came in.

"How come you weren't in class?" Nick asked, "you never ditch."

"I wasn't ditching."

"Then what happened?"

"I was called to the office."

"Why? Are you in trouble?"

"No, they placed me."

"What do you mean?"

"They placed me in foster family."

"How come?" Michael asked, "I've been here two whole years, and they haven't placed me, and you've been here only three weeks, and they are already placing you. That's not fair, man."

"They said they wanted someone who's sixteen."

"That's still not fair," Michael repeated.

"So, when are you going?" Mark asked.

"Right now," Johnny replied, all of the sudden feeling uneasy that he got paced, and his roommates, who had been there much longer than him still haven't been placed.

"Are they nice?" Mark asked.

"They seem nice," Johnny replied, "but you never know."

"Well, good luck, man," Mark patted Johnny on the shoulder.

"Thanks."

Johnny packed his things and was all ready to go.

Then he took out his book, that his friends had brought him during their visit, and started reading to kill the remainder of the time, while he was waiting. Finally, quarter to four Mrs. Collins came and got him, and led him to his new foster parents' car.

"Good luck Johnny," she said, and gave him a hug.

"Thanks," was all Johnny was able to say.

The drive was long since they were driving all the way from the suburbs, where the boys' home was to Oklahoma City.

Johnny was looking out the window, noticing how they were passing through the poor neighborhoods, where there were a lot of constructions, shabby houses without any backyards, and cheap dime stores. This scenery then changed abruptly as they entered the middle class section of Oklahoma City. Now Johnny saw nice houses with nice backyards, lawns and flowers blooming everywhere. It was quite different from the neighborhood that Johnny grew up in.

Mr. and Mrs. Thomas' house had two stories and a big backyard. When they went inside, they were greeted by two cats— one adult cat and one kitten. They came out into the hallway and started sniffing the new person – Johnny. After they were satisfied, they started rubbing their heads against Johnny's legs and purring. They were tabbies, and they were really cute.

"Here, come here, kitty, psst," Johnny tried petting the kitten.

"This is Fluffy," Linda said, petting the adult cat, "and that is Smiley. He got his name 'cause he always looked like he was smiling. Even when he was really little."

"It does look," Johnny said chuckling, "like he is smiling."

"They both are really friendly. I haven't had one scratch since we got them." What about the dog, Johnny though, they said they had a dog too.

"We also have a puppy, but he's scared of strangers," Linda explained. "We got him from the shelter. He was abused by his previous owners. He really only responds to me and Sam. Hopefully he'll get used to you too, but whenever we have visitors, he hides away under the bed."

Once they got passed the cats, they entered the living room. It was nicely decorated, nice tasteful furniture. Not over the top, but you could tell people that lived here were financially secure.

Johnny wondered briefly what they did for a living.

"C'mon Johnny, I'll show you your room," Mrs. Thomas said, and started going upstairs. Johnny followed her.

"Here," she said. "It's painted it blue, but if you want another color just tell us, and we'll get the contractor to repaint it."

"No, blue is fine," Johnny replied awkwardly, not being used to being the center of attention.

The color was light soft blue, and Johnny actually quite liked it. There was some fancy desk by the window. The one that's made out of good wood, and has a lot of drawers. There was also a dresser with a mirror made from the same wood as the desk, the closet, the bed and the recliner. The bed was bigger than the one Johnny had at home, and when he sat down on it, he realized that it was more comfortable too.

"Ok, you can unpack and settle down, then come down for dinner," Linda said.

"Yes ma'am," Johnny replied.

"You can call me Linda." She said and left the room, and Johnny thought he saw a tear escape her eye, but the next second it was gone, so he thought he just imagined it.

Johnny was alone in the room now. He sat on the bed, not moving, and biting his nails, wondering what this experience would be like for him. They seemed nice enough, but you never know, and besides, he would have to go to a new school. Johnny dreaded that.

He unpacked whatever things he had — a few shirts and another pair of jeans, putting the clothes neatly into the closet. He also had one framed photo that he brought. It was of him and the gang. Mrs. Curtis took that picture. They all were in a really good mood that day, Johnny remembered, putting the picture on the desk. He couldn't wait to see his friends again.

The boys' home didn't allow him off the premises, but living here meant that he could go to the movies or to the arcade or for ice cream or anywhere else with his friends. Just for that reason alone it was worth staying here, he thought. He finished unpacking, and now he had to go downstairs for dinner.

Johnny went downstairs, and Linda ushered him into the dining room. The dinner was mashed potatoes and roast beef. Johnny was ashamed of how hungry he was. He was not used to having a decent meal for dinner. At home there was hardly any food most of the time. His parents would go to eat out at bars in the evenings and to fast food places during the day. So often he'd just make himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and that would be his dinner. The food at the boys' home also sucked.

After dinner, he thanked Linda, and was about to go back to his room when she spoke up, wiping her hands on her apron

"It's really nice out," she said, "you may want to take a walk, familiarize yourself with the neighborhood. Tomorrow I'll take you shopping, and then we'll go and enroll you in school." At the mention of shopping Johnny felt his cheeks turning red. He hadn't been shopping in forever. He'd been wearing the same t-shirts and jeans for years. Luckily for him, he was not growing that fast so his clothes still fit him. Otherwise he'd be left with nothing, because his parents sure enough wouldn't buy him anything new. And now these complete strangers were going to spend money on him.

"Alright, I'll take a walk," he agreed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ok, here is chapter 9. OC is finally introduced. Here we go, enjoy.**

Johnny went outside. The sun was bright, and rays of light illuminated the leaves, so it looked like they were glowing. The nice warm breeze felt nice against Johnny's skin. It was warm, but not hot like in the summer. The weather was great, and he could just feel Spring in the air. The sky was deep blue and clear— not a cloud.

Johnny was thinking about his life. He'd need to get a job when he turns eighteen, he thought. With his low grades he couldn't even dream about going to college and then, of course, he didn't have the money for it either. But he realized while he was at the boys' home that he could do better in school. Maybe, just maybe he could somehow get his grades up in the new school. And maybe he could get assistance from the state to pay for community college. Those community colleges aren't that expensive.

He walked a little more, taking in the new surroundings. The layout of the neighborhood was similar to his. They are all similar these days, he thought — a few alleys in front of the house, leading to the park with the monkey bar and swings for kids. Tables and benches spread throughout the area. The difference was that it was clean here, while in his neighborhood everything was covered in newspapers, fliers, plastic bags you name it. Here it was clean, and all the trees and bushes were trimmed.

There were several kids playing in the park. They were dressed nicely in clean clothes. Johnny had conflicting feelings about living here. On one hand, he was from the hood and he was proud of that. That was who he was. It was his identity, and he did not want to betray that. On the other hand, he felt like maybe he got a second chance and he'd be able to make it ok in life.

He remembered how he was always envious of Ponyboy's family. Well, maybe, just maybe he could have that now. He knew that right now his foster parents seemed like complete strangers, but who knows maybe that could change. They seemed nice so far. Thinking about that, Johnny turned around and walked back to the house.

At night Johnny couldn't fall asleep. He kept turning and tossing in his bed, millions of thoughts flooding his mind. He thought about his parents and what was going to happen to them, and how he could bet they didn't care that they lost him. They just cared about not going to prison. He thought about his friends, and how things were going to be with them. How often would they be able to visit? He thought about him turning eighteen, getting a job or going to college, and about him going to the new school and meeting new people. He tried to fall asleep, he even tried counting sheep, but it was useless.

Realizing that he wasn't going to sleep this night, he decided to get some fresh air. He opened the widow and stuck his head out. It felt really nice. The air was still and warm no wind at all. Johnny looked at the sky. Beautiful sky full of stars, he thought. Johnny started to calm down a little bit, realizing that he shouldn't worry so much. He should let things take their course and hopefully it'll work out for the best.

In the morning Johnny got up to the aroma of omelet with bacon filling the house.

"Good morning," Linda greeted, flipping the omelet, "sleep alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," Johnny lied, and right away realized what he just said. He didn't mean to call her ma'am, it just came out. She was a stranger to him, and that's what he would call a stranger — ma'am. She frowned, offended. She looked at him for a while, not knowing how to respond, then she said softly, "Listen Johnny, I know you just met us, but this is not some military camp. You don't have to call me ma'am and my husband sir. Just call me Linda and my husband Sam."

"Ok, I'm sorry," Johnny responded, looking down at the floor.

"C'mon, nothing to be sorry about," Linda said softly, "go wash up, take a shower and come back here for breakfast. Don't tell me you don't' like fluffy omelet with bacon."

"Ok," he almost said ma'am again, but caught himself in time and said Linda.

Johnny remembered the day he was at Curtis', and Darry made pancakes in the morning. Now he was having this moment only the food was made for _him_. It felt too good to be true. Johnny didn't want to get his hopes up and then get disappointed. He decided not to get attached to these people, but watch and observe them carefully for a long time before he could trust them.

After breakfast Mr. Thomas left for work, and Linda told Johnny to get ready to go to the mall with her. He still didn't know what they did for a living. He was kind of curious about that, but decided not to ask. At least not yet.

They went to the car. Linda was wearing huge sunglasses, and Johnny's surprise and question was all in the look on his face when he saw her.

"Allergies," she explained, removing the glasses, and revealing red, puffy, watery eyes.

"Great weather," she said, "but I can't make a step without these." She put the glasses back on.

"Why don't you take those allergy pills that they always advertize on TV?" Johnny suggested.

"I take them," Linda replied. "If I didn't take them I'd be sneezing nonstop the whole day."

"Oh, I see," Johnny replied.

Johnny climbed in the passenger seat, and Linda started the car.

"So what do you like to do for fun?" Linda tried to start small talk.

"Well, my friends and I usually play football on weekends or we shoot some hoops or go to the bowling alley or a pool hall. Mostly I hang out with my friends. We go to the movies and to the arcade or we go for ice cream. I really hope you'll allow them to visit, and you'll let me go places with them. I wasn't able to do that at the boys' home, because they didn't let anyone off the premises."

"Oh, that would be no problem," Linda assured him, "as long as we know where you are and who you are with there's no problem. You are probably wondering about us," Linda said next, not taking her eyes of the road. And when Johnny didn't say anything, she realized he was being polite and trying not to pry. So she continued. "My husband is an engineer, and I am a nurse, but I'm on a leave of absence. Some personal stuff." She didn't elaborate, and Johnny didn't pry.

At this point they reached their destination, and Linda parked the car in the parking lot. "Let's start with the shoes," Linda stated, and Johnny looked at his beat up tennis shoes. She picked out a pair of black loafers, and showed them to Johnny. Those were the last thing that he'd ever wear. He didn't know how to refuse without being rude. After all, Linda was the one paying for them. He didn't have to say anything though, because she read his opinion from the look on his face.

"It's ok, if you don't like these. Why don't I just let you pick out the ones that you like, and I'll wait here by the entrance." He got a pair of blue converses and brought them to Linda. He felt bad, because they were fifteen dollars more than the loafers Linda picked out.

When it came to shirts, Linda decided not to even attempt to pick anything out. She just sat on the bench in the corner and allowed him do the shopping. He picked out three t-shirts- black, navy blue and white and a jean jacket. He still preferred long sleeves to cover the old scars and marks from the beatings on his arms. The jean jacket was perfect for that. When he was done, he brought the stuff he picked out over to where Linda was sitting.

"That's it?" She protested. "Now go on, and pick something else."

"But I… it already cost too much," Johnny started, running his fingers through his hair, and swallowing hard.

"Don't worry about the money," Linda said sincerely and looked him right in the eyes. "And pick out a pair of jeans too," she yelled, as Johnny was walking away. So, he picked out three more t-shirts and a pair of jeans.

When he was done, they went to pay. Linda seemed in a really good mood, while Johnny was feeling down. They spent over two hundred dollars, and he felt extremely guilty. But in addition, he was feeling down, because he realized that this was how normal families shopped. His parents never took him shopping. The few items that he had, they bought for him God knows where probably at a dime store, and he was wearing those forever. He was really bumming out about that. He still cared. He still wished his real parents cared about him.

"You want to stop by for some ice cream?" Linda asked enthusiastically, when they were outside.

"Thanks," Johnny replied, flipping his bangs out of his eyes, "but if you don't mind I'd rather just go back." She saw that he was upset about something, but decided not to pressure him into telling her what it was.

"Hey," she said, "don't worry about the money. You should've picked out more stuff. You are starting school. You need a lot more than you picked out."

"I'll be ok," was all Johnny said, looking away.

The ride home was in silence, but Linda was determined to change Johnny's mood.

"Try it on," she said when they were home.

"Try what on?"

"The stuff that you bought. Try it on. I want o see how it looks."

"That really isn't necessary," Johnny started to protest.

"C'mon, I want to see how it looks." She started taking the stuff out of the bag, laying it out on the couch. "Try this one." She picked out a black t-shirt, the jean jacket and new jeans and converses. "C'mon, go try it on," she prompted him. Johnny went to his room, and reluctantly put the new stuff on. He had to admit it looked really good. He was wearing brand new clothes for once in his life.

"What's taking you so long?" Linda yelled from the living room. Johnny realized that, in spite of himself, he was smiling. He had to admit it, at least to himself, that he liked the new stuff. He went to the living room to show Linda.

"Wow," she gave a whistle when Johnny entered the room.

"Oh my, – all the girls will be after you," she said, grinning from ear to ear. Johnny's face flashed bright red just as she said it.

"C'mon," Linda laughed, "admit that you like it, smile a little." Johnny tried to stay all serious, but, in spite of himself, smiled a little.

"C'mon, take the rest of it to your room, and get down here to eat. Tomorrow we'll go and enroll you in school."

The next morning Linda and Johnny were walking into school office to enroll Johnny in school. Johnny was very nervous. This school seemed big, much bigger than the one he went to before. How he would survive there, he thought. The office was a long room, painted white, with three doors on the side. Two for the guidance counselors and one for the dean.

Linda knocked on one of the guidance counselor doors.

"Come in," a woman's voice answered, and Linda opened the door for her and Johnny to come it. Johnny swallowed hard, and tried to be less nervous, as he followed Linda into the office.

They were greeted by a petite woman with curly brown hair with a few strands of gray. She had huge blue eyes. She looked like a bug, Johnny thought. That made him a little less anxious.

"I'm Mrs. Treager, how can I help you?" the bug lady asked, fixing her glasses on top of her head. She looked bored. Like she had nothing to do, and now she finally would have something to do.

"Well, we are her to enroll my…," Linda hesitated for a moment, and then said, "son. He just moved here."

"No problem," the guidance counselor replied, "please fill out this form." She gave Johnny the form.

Johnny filled it out, and gave the filled out form to Mrs. Treager.

"Do you have records from the school you attended before?" she asked.

"Sure." Johnny handed her the papers.

"Alright," she said, "Let me make up your schedule, you can wait outside." Johnny and Linda stepped back to the waiting area.

In about ten minutes Mrs. Treger called them back in.

"Here's your schedule," she handed it to Johnny. "You start tomorrow."

"Thanks," he said simply, taking it. He was placed to medium classes. Not the advanced ones, but not the dumb classes that he was in at his old school.

He looked at the schedule. He had math, English, Social studies, foreign language – Spanish, gym and chemistry. Chemistry – he put the schedule in his pocket reluctantly. Chemistry was the class that he was flunking in his old school. He thought that maybe he could ask Mrs. Treager to switch chemistry with something else, but then he thought what else cold he get instead? Probably physics and that wasn't any better. So he just left it alone.

The next morning Johnny was beyond apprehensive. It was his first day of school. He was wearing his new black t-shirt, his jean jacket, his new jeans and his converses. He was concerned, because this school was in the middle class neighborhood, and he wondered if there were any hoods there at all.

His old school was in between two neighborhoods — the poor side, where he lived, and the rich side. That way they had both hoods and rich people in the same school. He wondered how it was going to be at this new school. Would it be all just middle class kids since the school was in the middle class neighborhood and how would he fit in with them?

His first class was English. He walked in, and took a seat in the back of the room, hoping to stay unnoticed. The bell rang, and the teacher came in shortly. "Good morning class," she greeted. "We have a new student with us today," she said, "Jonathan Cade," and she pointed at him. All eyes were on Johnny now, and he just wanted to disappear. Why did she have to do that, he thought. He was so comfortable there in the back of the room without anyone paying him any attention. He was wondering if the teachers in other classes were going to do the same thing. If so, he had a long day ahead.

He went through his Spanish and social studies classes without being made a center of attention, and he was glad. It was lunch time, and Johnny decided to skip it since he still didn't know anybody, and he didn't want to sit and eat alone. At his old school he always went to this diner on the corner for lunch. He went with Two-Bit and Pony.

So he went outside to the school yard, and sat on the bench, pretending to read one of his textbooks. A few minutes later several people got out of the school building, and they were going in Johnny's direction. Johnny automatically tensed up. They were being loud and were laughing. As they came closer, Johnny saw that it was four guys and one girl. They paid him no attention, and stopped by the bench next to his. The girl and one of the guys sat on the back of the bench, putting their feet on the seat, while everybody else gathered around them.

The girl was medium height, and had honey color hair, pulled in a ponytail. She had brown eyes that went nicely with her hair color. She would be pretty, except for the look in her eyes. It was a look of bitterness and contempt and defiance for everything and everyone around her. Even now, when she was laughing, that look was still there, and instead of looking pretty, she looked mean. The guys were all well built. Two of them were wearing dark color hoodies, and two were wearing leather jackets.

Unwillingly, Johnny overheard part of their conversation. Apparently they were talking about who gossips more girls or guys.

"C'mon," one of the guys said, while playing with a tennis ball in his hands, "you can't be serious. Everybody knows that girls gossip more. They turn everything into gossip."

"That's where you are wrong," the girl responded, twirling one of her hair strands around her finger. "It's just with girls, everybody knows that they gossip, but with guys, they pretend that they don't care, but they gossip behind everybody's back much worse than any girl would."

"Oh yeah?" the guy that was sitting next to her on the bench, said, "And who spread the rumor last month that Lindsay Williams was pregnant and was having an abortion?"

"That wasn't a rumor, we thought it was true."

"That's a rumor," the guy said firmly.

In spite of himself, Johnny found this conversation amusing, and started to pay more attention to what they were saying.

"Now let me ask you this," the girl spoke up again, "who spread the rumor last month that Rachel puts out?" One of the guys snickered.

"Yeah, ha-ha funny," the girl teased, "who," she continued, "spread rumors that Nancy was a lesbian, and Who spread rumors that Lisa cheated on Tommy? Should I continue?" They were silent.

"But you spread the rumor that coach Nixon was fired for approaching a ninth grader," the guy next to her said.

"Again, at the time we thought it was true. We weren't spreading a rumor on purpose like you did, you need more proof, pal?" And she punched him in the shoulder partly playfully and partly seriously. He punched her back, and she punched again. This time he didn't keep his balance and almost fell off the bench. The other guys laughed, and Johnny tensed up, not knowing what to expect. The guy that was sitting next to her looked like he was going to fight her, no joke, but would he actually fight a girl?

The girl was going to say something, but at this time she noticed Johnny staring in her direction "What are you looking at? Is this some sort of a show or a concert for you?" she said roughly.

"No, I'm sorry," Johnny replied, feeling his cheeks turn red, and sinking deeper into the bench. She looked at him with disdain and then said, "Creep, you are pathetic." Johnny just looked away, hurt.

The lunch break was over, and they all went inside. Johnny's next class was math. He walked in and again sat in the back of the room. Few minutes later he was unpleasantly surprised, when the girl he just saw outside, walked in and took one of the seats. Then a guy, who was not outside with her sat in a seat next to her.

The class started, but Johnny's attention was on the girl. She was whispering something to the guy every time the teacher turned around to write something on the board. They were waving their hands at each other. It was clear that they were fighting. She punched him in the shoulder a few times, motioning for him to move his desk away from hers. Instead, he moved closer, then she pushed him on his side, and he fell out of his seat with a loud thud. The classmates burst into laughter, and the girl laughed louder than all of them. The teacher turned around from the blackboard, and glanced at guy, who was still on the floor. She looked furious. "Mr. Hunter," she said, "you obviously can't manage sitting next to Ms. Watson. Why don't you switch seats with…" she looked around the room, "with…" she pointed at Johnny, not remembering his name, "what's your name again?" she asked.

"Johnny, Johnny Cade."

"Yes, why don't you switch seats with Mr. Cade? He is new in our school," she added, and again all eyes were on Johnny. He grabbed his book and his backpack, and hesitantly moved towards the desk next to the girl. After her comment earlier, it was understandable that he was less than thrilled to be sitting next to her.

As if the situation couldn't get any worse the teacher spoke up again. "Ms. Watson," she said, "Mr. Cade missed a loft of material. He needs to catch up. I am assigning you to meet with him once a week until he's up to date. Maybe that will make you concentrate on the work, and not make a circus out of this class."

"What?" the girl said, "Do I have 'saint' tattooed on my forehead?"

"Ms. Watson," the teacher said, "one more comment and you'll be commenting in the principal's office."

"Who gives a shit," she mumbled under her breath.

The rest of the class Johnny wasn't paying attention to the teacher. He was thinking about studying with this girl. He was considering telling her that he was doing ok and he didn't need any help, but it wasn't like he had any choice. It was **assigned** by the teacher that they study together, and besides, he really did need the help now that he saw his grades improve, and he intended for them to stay that way. Who knows maybe he'll be able to go to college after all.

Finally, the bell rang, and Johnny started getting up and putting the books away. He was wondering if he should say something to the girl about them meeting at the library, but he was hesitant. Before he could decide though, the girl turned around and looked at him. "Meet me by the exit at three," she said through clenched teeth and left the room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok here is the next chapter. The OC is not very likable at first. It's meant to be that way. She gets better as the chapters progress I promise. Hope you like.**

At three Johnny was waiting patiently by the exit. It was really nice out, so he didn't mind to wait. Finally, he saw the girl come out.

"Hey Ashley, over here," someone yelled, and she waved. Johnny turned around to see who was yelling, and saw the same four guys that he saw with her that afternoon. She was waving at them, and going in their direction. Well, at least I know her name now, Johnny thought. She finally reached the guys, and they started to walk away. She clearly forgot about Johnny.

Johnny was intimidated by the guys, but he had no choice. He ran to catch up with them, and called her name. She turned around surprised. "Shit, I totally forgot," she mumbled, and then the next second she said "C'mon, you are coming with us."

"Why? Who is he?" one of the guys demanded.

"I'm Johnny," Johnny replied, "I'm new here."

"How new?"

"Well, actually today is my first day."

"Tell me again why he's coming with us," the other guy interrupted.

"It's a long story," Ashley replied, "I'm supposed to help him with the stuff he missed in math."

"How come?" The guy sounded puzzled.

"Well, if you really need to know, I was fighting with this idiot Hunter during math, and as a punishment I was assigned to help the new kid with math." She was talking as if Johnny wasn't even there.

"C'mon kid, you are coming with us," the other guy said.

"And where are we going?" Johnny forced himself to find the courage to ask.

"We are going to Ricky's," the guy said.

"Yeah, we can do your stupid math stuff there," Ashley offered.

"What's Ricky's?" Johnny asked.

"Oh, would you stop with your stupid questions?" Ashley snapped.

"Hey, ease up on the new kid," one of the guys said.

"Ricky's is the diner, where we eat and play pool."

"Oh, I see," was all Johnny said, flipping his bangs out of his face.

"By the way, I'm Jimmy and this is Alex, Eddie and Brian."

"Nice to meet you," Johnny mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

They walked to Ricky's, and Johnny wished they were old enough to drive. It would be nice to ride in a car, in this beautiful weather, the wind blowing through the open windows.

They reached their destination soon, since Ricky's wasn't too far away from school. They went inside. The lights were dimmed, and it was kind of dark inside, and Johnny was glad. It made the atmosphere in the place more relaxing, and it helped Johnny feel less tense.

Half of the space was occupied by the dining area and the bar. There were rows of tables, and a small candle was burning on each of the tables. In the other half of the space there were rows of pool tables.

First, everybody got a coke, and Johnny was glad that he didn't spend his lunch money today, and was able to buy a coke just like everybody else. Then they went to the pool tables.

"You play?" Jimmy asked, while collecting all of the balls on one of the tables.

"Sure," Johnny replied. What he did not tell Jimmy was that he was an **excellent** pool player. Dally was always showing him all the tricks of the trade, and with time Johnny excelled at it.

"I'll play you Jimmy," Alex said, picking a cue for himself.

"That leaves Brian and Eddie, and Ash you play him." Jimmy pointed at Johnny.

"Why do I get to play _him_?" Ashley protested.

"Well, you brought him, so you play him."

"Oh, it's like that, huh?" Ashley said, getting up from the chair and picking up a cue. "Fine, I'll play him. I can see that all you pussies are just scared to play me!"

Jimmy shrugged, "You play him, and then you can play any of us. We aren't scared to play you."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Ashley replied. "So far I was beating each of you for the whole last week," she added, arranging the balls in the right position on the table.

"Well, this is going to be one short game," she announced, implying that she'd beat Johnny in no time.

Johnny was playing solids, and Ashley was playing stripes. Ten minutes passed, and there were only two solids remaining and a whole bunch of stripes. Johnny got his turn, and he was killing it one shot after another. Finally, there were no more solids left on the table. The guys were looking at Ashley, curiosity looks on their faces.

"Oh, it was just a fluke. I was off my game." Ashley tried to laugh it off, but she was visibly unpleasantly surprised and angry. Johnny, didn't really care that much before, but all of the sudden he wanted to dare her to play again, since she was bragging so much how good she was. He was up to the challenge now. He wanted to put her in her place, what's with her being so arrogant and defiant and so cocky that she thought she'd beat him in no time.

"Let's play another game" Ashley said.

"Sure" Johnny replied simply. He arranged the balls in the starting position, and they started a new game. In about fifteen minutes it was clear that Johnny was winning. Again, the guys exchanged looks.

"One more game, three's a charm," Ashley said to Johnny, after he won. She was getting really mad, he could tell.

"Fine," he replied. He was slightly concerned about his math, but at the moment this was more important. Johnny didn't want her to be mad, it was just a game, but she apparently took things like this seriously.

They started the third game, and all the guys stopped playing their games, and were now gathered around Ashley's and Johnny's table. They were cheering and betting on who would win.

After Johnny beat Ashley for the third time, she was really mad. The guys were laughing now.

"So you'll believe it when you see it, huh, Ash?" Alex chuckled. The guys didn't really care though. They were just kidding with her, and teasing her a little bit, but she was all mad and serious. "Shut up," she replied. She clearly didn't expect some shy kid, who didn't say much, and couldn't even properly introduce himself, to be so good at pool.

"No hard feelings," Johnny offered. She gave him one stern look of disdain, and said to the others, "well, I'm out of here."

"Wait, what about math?" Johnny called after her.

"Just read the damn book," she said sarcastically, "it's all in there, and don't even think of running crying to the teacher about it, 'cause if you do, you really will find out how hell feels." She was really mean Johnny thought, but at the same time he had to admit that there was something attractive about her badass behavior.


	11. Chapter 11

A few weeks passed by. Johnny was starting to get used to his new school. He made friends with a few middle class kids. This guy Ryan started talking to him in his social studies class, and then later introduced him to his friends. They were ok. Just your regular middle class kids with their middle class problems and issues. They were nothing like the friends Johnny had before, but at least he had people to sit with during lunch now.

He still felt awkward around Linda and Sam, and still called them Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, to which they protested, but it was going to take some time for him to adjust.

Johnny did make one really good friend in his foster family though – the puppy, Rocky. That dog, who was scared of people, and responded only to Linda and Sam really liked Johnny. The first time Johnny tried petting him, he tried to hide under the bed, but then Johnny kept saying "Rocky I won't hurt you buddy" in a quiet, soft voice. The dog got out from under the bed and approached Johnny. Carefully as not to scare Rocky Johnny started petting him, while saying "good boy, I won't hurt you, you don't have to be scared." The dog started wiggling his tail and licked Johnny's nose. They've been friends ever since.

They were two of a kind - both have been abused and both have been rescued by the Thomas' family. Rocky followed Johnny around the house, and when Johnny had to leave for school in the morning Rocky followed him to the door and wiggled his tail. When Johnny came home from school in the afternoon Rocky met him by the door jumping around and licking Johnny's hands. He even slept in Johnny's room a couple of times, curled up in a ball by Johnny's bed.

It was one week before Johnny's parents' trial, and Johnny was supposed to meet with the public defender, that had been appointed to represent him. So after school Linda gave him a ride to the lawer's office. Dally and Ponyboy were going to meet with the lawyer right after Johnny, but he was supposed to go first.

Johnny felt nervous about the meeting, and somewhere deep inside he still felt a little guilty for putting his parents to prison.

They arrived at the office, and Linda agreed to pick Johnny up in two hours.

Johnny came up to the office door, and hesitantly pressed the bell. The secretary buzzed him in, and led him to the lawyer's office.

Johnny was greeted by a middle-aged man with lots of gray hair and some balding spots on his head. He got up from his seat, when Johnny walked in, and came around to the center of the room. "Hi, you must be Johnny. I'm Mr. Lawrence. I'll be representing you and the state in the case against your parents," he said, offering Johnny his hand. Johnny shook it, and Mr. Lawrence motioned for Johnny to take a seat, which Johnny did, noticing how comfortable the black leather chair was.

The office was modestly decorated. After all, it was a public defender's office not some big shot private law firm or something. Yet, all the chairs were leather, and there were framed diplomas on the wall.

"Your friends should be here shortly. For now let's start with you," Mr. Lawrence started. "First of all, I must tell you that your testimony is key to winning this case. In fact, it is the most important thing. I hope you realize that," the lawyer said after clearing his throat.

"I do," Johnny replied, swallowing hard.

"We are going for assault in the second degree, which is felony class D," the lawyer stated.

"What?" Johnny asked, confused by the unfamiliar terms.

"All it means, is that we got to prove that your parents _intended_ to hurt you, that they did it on purpose. That's called assault in the second degree, and like I said it's felony class D, and the sentence for that is up to seven years. They are going to try to present it as a misdemeanor, saying that it was just negligence and they did not intend to hurt you. The sentence for a misdemeanor is up to one year in prison. Perhaps your mother can get away with a misdemeanor, but not your father. We must not let that happen."

The lawyer, Johnny had to admit, was talking like he was really interested in representing this case. Johnny didn't expect that, since it was just a public defender, and not a private law firm. So Johnny was pleasantly surprised.

"So you see," Mr. Lawrence continued, "first of all you have to let the jury know that these beatings have been going on from the very beginning, since you were a little kid. Then you have to tell that your father and mother _intended_ to hurt you, that they did it on purpose. I read your file, which was given to me by social services. I read about what your parents did to you. Now you have to tell all that to the jury just like you told the social workers. Tell the jury that your father beat you, and your mother slapped you around, and also witnessed the beatings, and did nothing to stop it. You've got to tell them how your dad was hitting you with the belt, and how he hit you on the head with a broken beer bottle , how he used to shove you so you fell on the floor, and he used to kick you with his feet."

Johnny swallowed hard, and sunk deeper into his chair. Every word that the lawyer was saying, describing what Johnny's parents did to him, made him relive those moments. Johnny hated talking about that. He had not talked about that to anyone since his interview at the boys' home. Now he had to talk about that again. And then he would have to tell that to a whole bunch of strangers i.e. the jury. Johnny took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"From what I understand," the lawyer continued, "your father also used to chase you outside and kept hitting you. That's how two of your friends got to witness the beating. Is that right?"

Johnny took another deep breath. "Yes, he chased me outside or he chased me to my room. He even removed the lock on the door to my room, so I can't hide in there."

"Good," the defender said, and caught himself, realizing how it sounded. "I don't mean that it's good that he hit you. I mean that we have what to tell the jury."

"I understand," Johnny replied, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well son, I know it is really hard to talk about this stuff, but you got to tell the jury like it is. Your parents have been abusing you. They are both really sick people. I'm sorry to say that, but it's true. Testifying against them is doing the right thing. Don't you feel guilty about it. You should've reported them long time ago, why didn't you?"

"I didn't want to be taken away."

"Why not?"

" Because I didn't want to leave my friends behind, and also because I've heard a lot of ugly stories about boys' homes and foster parents."

"Oh, I see," Mr. Lawrence said. Johnny hung his head, and swallowed hard.

"They might cross examine you," the lawyer said next. "They'll throw some questions at you, making it look like it was just a little spanking for discipline purposes. Don't crumble under their questions. We have pictures to prove that it was far more than just a little spanking. So, don't be scared. Just tell the judge and the jury everything like you just told me, and like you told social workers."

"Who else is going to testify?" Johnny asked.

"Well, your friends will testify seeing your dad beating you outside, Mrs. Collins and Mr. Hoover will testify that the conditions they found you living in were completely unsafe. They will also testify that your father had a hangover when they visited, and that he was rude, and didn't want to cooperate. The social workers will also tell the jury that they saw a big blood stain on the floor in your room. The policeman, that arrested your parents, will also testify that your parents were drunk and weren't cooperating." The lawyer stopped talking, and Johnny figured they were done. "Is that it, can I go now?" he asked less than enthusiastically.

"Yes, son, that's it. Now you know what to expect. Your friends should be here shortly. I'll talk to them about their testimonies. I'll also meet with Mrs. Collins and Mr. Hoover, as well as, lieutenant Rogers to prepare them for their testimonies. I'll see you in court. Wear a suit if you have one."

"Thank you for your time," Johnny said, getting up.

"You'll thank me when we win the case, not now," Mr. Lawrence replied, giving Johnny a friendly smile.

Johnny got up and went to the exit, thinking over what he was just told. He started to feel a little more at ease about the whole thing after talking to the lawyer.


	12. Chapter 12

It was Saturday, and Johnny's friends were visiting him at his new home. He had previously called them, telling them that he had been placed. So on Saturday at around 11:00 a.m. the door bell rang. Linda answered the door, and let everybody in. They looked around, taking in their surroundings. They greeted each other, and Johnny led them to his room.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. It was Linda. She brought cookies and lemonade. Everybody took a cookie, and Johnny saw Dally frown a little while taking his. After that, they decided to shoot some hoops in the backyard.

While they played, Johnny noticed that Dally was bugged by something. He wasn't talking, and paid little attention to the game. Johnny finally decided to confront him. "What's wrong, man?" he asked simply.

"What do you mean?" Dally responded, trying to cover up his true feelings.

"C'mon, I see that you are bothered by something. Now spill it."

"Yeah, I noticed that too," Ponyboy piped in.

"Oh, it's nothing." Dally tried to wave it off, but Johnny persisted.

Finally Dally decided to spill it. "Well, if you must know it's you, it's all of this."

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? You sold out, man. This just ain't us, not who we are. Nice neighborhood, nice house, nice backyard, cookies and lemonade. That's not us, not how we live."

"I didn't ask for this," Johnny went on the defensive, "and I certainly didn't sell out."

"What are you talking about?" Ponyboy interrupted, "you should be happy for him, that he got out. Would you rather him live in our shitty neighborhood, and be beaten senseless all the time?" Ponyboy missed Johnny, but he secretly was glad that Johnny's neighbor called social services. It really made a difference, a big difference, and Ponyboy was more than happy for Johnny.

"Oh, just forget it," Dally snapped.

"No, I won't forget it," Johnny replied, getting a determined look on his face. "Look, just because I live in a good house now doesn't mean I changed. I'm still the same, man. And I still live with strangers. I'd give anything to have my real parents care about me."

At the mention of that, Dally felt bad about his outburst.

"I hear you," Dal said, "It's just I'm not used to this, you know."

"Well, I'm not used to this either," Johnny replied, "but I sure remember where I'm from, and I'll never forget that."

"So how is school? Are they all big shots there?" Dally asked, changing the subject.

"Nah, some middle class kids," Johnny replied, and then added swallowing hard, "I really miss you guys."

"We miss you too, man," Ponyboy replied. "It just ain't the same without you."

By then it was lunch time, and Linda got out of the house, and invited everyone for lunch.

Lunch was awkward. Everybody pretty much remained silent. At first, Linda tried to start a conversation, but after one- word replies she gave up.

After lunch, they all stayed in Johnny's room talking, watched TV, went outside again, and in the evening went to the movies. It was one of Johnny's happiest days since being taken to the boys' home. In spite of Dal's outburst, it was like the good old days. He almost forgot that he was in foster care.

On Monday Johnny was supposed to study with Ashley. This time they decided to actually meet at the school library, and study there. However, Ashley was visibly restless and she seemed distracted. After they've been there for about twenty minutes, "that's it," she said to Johnny, "I give up."

"What do you mean?" he asked surprised.

"This place…," she stated "it gives me the creeps. I can't stay here." Johnny thought she was ditching him, and was prepared to leave, when she said,

"Let's go to my place."

So they walked to Ashley's place. The house was bigger than Johnny's, and was well kept. Fresh paint and everything. Inside it was nice too. They had to pass through the living room in order to get to Ashley's room, and Johnny noticed nice furniture in the living room and a big TV. But most of all he was impressed by the scent in the house. It smelled clean, like some flowers' scent. He remembered the smell of beer and garbage at his own house that always made him gag.

"C'mon, in here," Ashley prompted, opening the door to her room.

They took out their books and notebooks, sprawled on the floor, and Ashley started explaining stuff to Johnny. To his surprise, he got everything she was saying. He'd been concerned that he wouldn't get it.

After about half an hour, "I need a break," Ashley said. She got up and went to one of the shelves on the wall that was full of records. She started looking through them. She didn't seem to care that Johnny was there and that he had nothing to do while she was on so called break. She flipped through the records and then finally picked one. Johnny glanced at the record briefly. It was The Doors. This was a new band that just recorded their first album and people generally either loved them or hated them. Ashley caught Johnny staring.

"What?" she asked slightly self-conscious.

"Nothing," Johnny replied, "it's just…I love this band," he added quietly.

"Oh really?" Ashley asked turning the record player on, "Who woulda thought."

"What do you mean?"

"Well you just, …um you don't look like The Doors fan."

"And why is that?" Johnny asked with some annoyance in his voice.

Ashley chuckled at his annoyance, "Well," she stated, "you are too shy and closed up to be The Doors fan."

"Oh, is that so? I'm just new here, cut me some slack will ya,"

"Ok, ok," she chuckled again, "Shush, I can't hear the song."

So time was passing by, and they were sitting on the floor in Ashley's room, listening to The Doors. They listened to the entire album. When they finally stopped, they realized that an hour had passed, and they had hardly done any work. But instead of working on math, they were sitting there, talking about bands they liked. Turned out they had a lot in common. They both liked Elvis, then Johnny liked Pink Floyd, and Ashley could care less about them, but they both liked The Who, The Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan.

"You know you can borrow it," Ashley said all of the sudden.

"What?" Johnny replied a little confused.

"The record you can borrow it if you want." Johnny was surprised by the gesture. He didn't expect her to be nice like that. "Sure, thanks" he said.

Finally, Johnny realized that it was time to go. He stayed nearly three hours at Ashley's place.

"What about math?" she asked, actually sounding a little concerned.

"No big deal. I'll just read the book, it's all in there," he said with a sly smile, teasing her a little. She returned the smile. She looked nice when she was smiling. He wanted to tell her that, but thought better of it.

So maybe she is not such a bad person once you get to know her, Johnny thought on his way back, but he decided not to trust her just yet, not until he knows her better. Being raised in the home that he'd been raised in and seeing all kinds of things he'd seen in the neighborhood where he grew up he learned not to trust anyone. Not until he could be absolutely sure. And at the moment the only people that made Johnny feel sure were his friends. Anyone else didn't earn Johnny's trust, at least not yet.


	13. Chapter 13

The trial was scheduled for Thursday, and Johnny had a note for school. He was really nervous about the trial. He was putting on a suit, and thought he looked ridiculous. People from the hood just didn't wear suits. Rocky was in the room observing curiously what Johnny was doing. He came up to Johnny and made a small noise.

"Yeah, I know, I know I look ridiculous," Johnny said, petting the dog. Johnny wondered briefly if Dally and Ponyboy and the rest of the guys were going to wear suits too. He wasn't sure if any of them owned one. He didn't own one, but Linda gave him one. He wondered briefly why she had it. It didn't look new, so he knew she didn't buy it. Oh, well he couldn't worry about that right then, he had enough on his mind.

"Johnny, are you ready? It's time." He heard Linda's voice. He was going to say 'yes', but suddenly realized that he lost his voice. That's how nervous he was. He was moving his lips, but the words didn't come out. So he just exited the room, and went to the car, where Linda and Sam were waiting for him. Sam insisted on coming, even though Johnny didn't see why.

They got to the court, and were greeted by Johnny's lawyer. Johnny introduced his foster parents to the lawyer.

"Nice to meet you," they said, shaking the lawyer's hand.

"So how are you holding up, son?" Mr. Lawrence asked Johnny.

"I'm ok," Johnny replied, and he wanted to sound brave, but his voice came out so small that Mr. Lawrence frowned.

"Hang in there, son, you'll be alright. You'll testify first, and then it'll be over before you know it."

The trial started at ten and it was quarter to ten. Everybody was waiting in nervous anticipation. Dally and Ponyboy arrived, and sure enough, they were wearing suits and ties. Then Two-Bit and Steve showed up too – for support.

At ten sharp it started. The judge was a somewhat old woman probably in her late fifty's. Johnny thought she looked intimidating in her robe and the glasses sitting on her nose – her facial expression unreadable. There weren't that many people in the room. It was Johnny and his lawyer, his foster parents and friends, then Mrs. Collins and Mr. Hoover were there too, lieutenant Rogers, Johnny's parents and their lawyer, the jury and several reporters. Great, Johnny thought, reporters— now this thing is going to be in the papers or maybe even on the news.

After a brief introduction, and summarizing what this case was about, each lawyer now was supposed to present his opening statement.

The plaintiff's lawyer was first. Mr. Lawrence talked about how they were accusing the defendants of child abuse and endangerment, and how he was going to prove that. He spoke directly to the jury, and stated that they had evidence and witnesses to support their claim. He stated that Mr. Cade's actions were an assault in second degree, and a felony class D, for which maximum sentence is seven years, while Mrs. Cade's actions were assault in the third degree, which was a misdemeanor class A, and the sentence for that is up to one year in prison. He claimed that he intended to prove that.

After Mr. Lawrence was done with his opening statement, the defendant's lawyer presented his opening statement as well. He talked about how he was going to prove that Mr. and Mrs. Cade's actions were just acts of discipline, and were a misdemeanor, and the sentence for that was up to one year in prison. By the way the defendant's attorney spoke, it was clear he didn't believe he'd win this case. It was just a formality. He was a public defender, and he was **appointed** to defend Mr. and Mrs. Cade, but you could tell from his opening statement that he did not sympathize with them.

After the lawyers were done with their opening statements, Johnny was called to the stand.

"Go get them." Johnny's lawyer patted him on the shoulder. The judge made Johnny swear to tell the truth and then asked, "So is it your claim Mr. Cade that Mr. and Mrs. Cade had been abusing you while you were in their care?"

"Yes ma'am," Johnny said, paling.

"Please tell us the nature of the abuse." Oh, where to start, Johnny thought. "Well," he said, "it's mostly my father. He beat me, hitting me with the belt," he paused too nervous to continue.

At this point Mr. Lawrence got up, and started asking Johnny more questions. "So," he started, "were the beatings regular, almost every day?"

"Yes," Johnny nodded, looking down.

"And when did the beatings start?"

"Since I was little. For as long as I can remember."

"Would you say that Mr. Cade's actions were intentional? That he intended to hurt you?" Johnny looked Mr. Cade, who was sitting in the front row, into the eyes and said, "Yes, his actions were definitely intentional. He even took the lock off my door so I can't lock myself in my room, and he can get there and beat me whenever he wants to." Johnny looked at his lawyer, who was nodding in approval.

"Tell us exactly how the beatings happen," the lawyer asked.

"Well, it usually starts with something stupid, some stupid excuse that my father uses to start hitting me. He has a drinking problem, and when he is drunk everything sets him off."

"Give us an example." The lawyer prompted.

"Well, the other day I accidently left my books on the kitchen table. When my father saw the books, he got enraged, threw the books on the floor, and proceeded to beat me up. Other times he just beats me without even having any excuse. He just comes to my room, and starts hitting me." Johnny spoke in a low voice, taking big pauses between words. It was clear that it was really difficult for him to talk about this stuff.

"I know it's difficult to talk about this," the lawyer proceeded to say, "but we need to know what exactly happens when he beats you, and how bad your injuries are."

"Well, he usually starts with the belt," Johnny started, turning even paler, and speaking in a really low voice. "He tells me to…" Johnny hesitated for a moment, and his cheeks turned a little red.

"Yes?" the lawyer prompted him to continue.

"Well, he tells me to pull my pants off, and starts hitting me with the belt. Then he hits me on the back with the belt, and then he starts punching me in the stomach and my ribs. A few times he hit me on the head with a broken beer bottle. He throws me on the floor, and kicks me with his feet. A few times I really hurt my head when I fell on the floor. I hit it against a metal chair." Johnny paused again, and he could hear a few people in the jury and in the audience gasp. The judge, who tried to be impartial, paled too.

"So, is it fair to say that the beatings are severe?" Mr. Lawrence said.

"Yeah," Johnny nodded.

"So, overall there is great harm to the defendant's body, and his father is definitely doing it on purpose so there is intent," the lawyer spoke to the jury now. "We also have pictures of the injuries," he added. Johnny dreaded seeing those pictures, and hoped that just the judge and the jury would look at them, and he wouldn't have to look at them.

"Well, I'd like to see the pictures," the judge said. The clerk came up to Mr. Lawrence, and took the pictures from him, and brought them to the judge. The judge was trying not to show any emotion, but she turned even paler after she looked at the pictures. Then she gave them back to the clerk so he could give them to the jury.

"What about your mother?" the lawyer asked next.

"Well, she usually yells at me, but sometimes she slaps me around too, and she'd seen my dad beating me, and she never tried to stop him." Johnny was talking slowly and breathing hard.

"What about emotional abuse? Do your parents yell at you? Do they call you names?"

"Yes," Johnny said, "They always yell at me, call me names, tell me that I'm good for nothing and will never amount to anything, and that I'm nothing, but trouble for them."

"So in addition to physical abuse there is also emotional abuse." The lawyer was addressing the jury and the judge now. "Just imagine," he said, "what it means to a child to hear from his own parents that he is good for nothing, and that he is nothing but trouble for them." It seemed like Mr. Lawrence was getting through to the members of the jury. They looked shocked and were nodding their heads, as if telling the lawyer that they understood and were agreeing with him.

"Now Johnny," the lawyer said next, "tell me about your living conditions. Is the garbage taken out on regular basis? Is there food in the house? Do your parents clean the house? Do you have more than one sheet and one blanket?"

"It's not clean in the house," Johnny replied. "I try to take the garbage out, but there is only so much I can do. There is always smell of beer in my house and there are beer bottles and cigarette butts on the floor in each room. Nobody cares to clean it."

"What about the food?" the lawyer asked again.

"Often there is no food, just beer. My parents eat at a bar or at a fast food place, and don't bother to leave any food for me. As for the sheet and the blanket, I only have one of each."

After Johnny finished giving his testimony, his parents' lawyer started the cross examination. "Your Honor," he started, "the plaintiff just admitted that this was an act of discipline not an intent to harm. He left his books on the kitchen table and was disciplined for that. On what other occasions did your father discipline you Johnny?"

"Well, if by discipline you mean beat me up, then it was one time I got him one beer instead of two. The other time I didn't do anything wrong, and he still came to my room and beat me."

"Objection," Johnny's lawyer spoke, "Your Honor and members of the jury, you have just seen the pictures of my client's injuries. It is clear from those pictures that the injuries go far and beyond the casual acts of discipline. The incidents such as my client just described, such as for example leaving his books on the kitchen table, do not justify the injures my client incurred. Nothing justifies such injuries. In addition, my client just stated that often the defendant does not have any excuse what so ever to inflict harm on the plaintiff, and he still does it. So, therefore there is clearly intent to harm in Mr. Cade's actions. In addition," Johnny's lawyer spoke, "we have witnesses that witnessed Mr. Cade chasing his son outside and continue beating him outside of the house. May we call the witness Your Honor?" The judge nodded.

Mr. Lawrence motioned for Dally to take the stand. Man, did he look mad. He was glaring at Mr. Cade on his way to the stand. After the judge made him state his name and swear to tell the truth, Dallas started his story. "We were supposed to meet at our friend's house at seven p.m. to go to the movies. Johnny didn't show up, and we decided to go to his house and pick him up."

"What did you see when you approached the plaintiff's house?" Johnny's lawyer prompted.

"I saw Johnny run outside and then his father run outside after him. I saw his father grab him and pin him against the wall on the front porch, and then he started hitting him with the belt, then he started punching Johnny in the stomach." Dallas didn't seem nervous, but he sounded angry. His voice was full of hatred and disdain for Johnny's parents.

"In the past," Johnny's lawyer continued, "have you seen the plaintiff being beaten or were you otherwise aware of the beatings?"

"I haven't witnessed another beating in the past, but I knew the bastard was hitting him. He shows up at our friends' house all beat up every other day. I've seen new and old marks from the belt and where the bastard punched him." Dally said through clenched teeth and it looked like he was going to spit, only he stopped himself in time.

"Language, Mr. Winston," the judge said, but Dally could care less about her remark and he used the words he wanted to use and that was it.

"Thank you Mr. Winston," Johnny's lawyer addressed Dallas, "you may take a seat."

"May we call the next witness Your Honor?" The judge nodded again. This time Ponyboy came to the stand. He didn't look half as confident as Dallas was. In fact he looked like he was going to pass out. His face was pale and he swayed to the side. His voice was shaking as he spoke. Nevertheless he confirmed Dally's testimony.

"Next witness," the judge prompted after Ponyboy had testified.

"Sure," Mr. Lawrence said, "we present to you Mrs. Collins a CPS case manager. She was the one investigating this case."

Mrs. Collins took the stand, putting her glasses on, so she could see the judge and the jury clearer. She appeared a little apprehensive. Like she realized all the responsibility that testifying was. Johnny's destiny was partly in her hands and she realized that.

"Now Mrs. Collins, please tell us what condition you found the house in when you were there."

"The house was in completely unsuitable condition," she stated. "The garbage was not taken out, and the house smelled like a mixture of beer and garbage." By the way she spoke it was clear that she was completely outraged by what she had seen.

"There were empty and broken beer bottles everywhere. There were cigarette butts everywhere, as well. There was no food in the refrigerator. Only beer," she said, disgust in her voice. "The plaintiff's father seemed to have a hangover. He was rude and disrespectful. I had also examined the plaintiff's room," she stated. "There was minimum furniture. Just a simple desk and a bed. There was one thin blanket on the bed and it had holes in it. In addition," she cleared her throat, "I observed a large blood stain on the floor right by the chair."

After Mrs. Collins, Mr. Hoover was called to the stand. And again he confirmed what she just said.

Lieutenant Rogers testified next. He testified that Johnny's parents were drunk when he came to arrest them, and they were not cooperating, and that the apartment was in disarray.

Then it was time for the defense to present their arguments. They didn't have any witnesses so Mr. and Mrs. Cade took the stand.

"Mr. Cade," their lawyer started, "please describe the nature of your physical contact with your son."

"Like I said, I just spank him a little for discipline."

"Objection, look at the photos," Johnny's lawyer called out.

"Denied," the judge said, "The jury is already aware of the pictures and all the evidence that you presented Mr. Lawrence. After hearing what Mr. and Mrs. Cade have to say, they will make a decision, taking into consideration all the evidence that you presented."

Mr. Cade didn't seem nervous as he testified. He showed no remorse for what he'd been doing. In fact, he tried to make it out like he was a victim in this case and that he was being treated unfairly. Mrs. Cade, on the other hand, was very nervous, but it wasn't because of the remorse for what she'd done. It was only fear of going to prison. She was crying and kept mumbling, "I can't go to prison, I just can't go to prison."

"Mr. Cade," the lawyer continued, "is it true that you provided food and shelter for the plaintiff for sixteen years?"

"Yes, it's true. We provided everything: food, roof over his head. We went through all the trouble he caused us, and this is how the little bastard is repaying us."

At the mention of this, Mr. Lawrence had difficulty just sitting and listening to this bullshit without calling another objection. He couldn't stand watching Mr. Cade pretend to be a good father.

As for the people testifying that there was a mess in the house and no food, Mr. Cade claimed that they just caught him on a bad day.

"Both times?" The judge asked.

"Yeah, both times."

"What about your son's testimony? He said that this is the usual situation in your house."

"The little shit is lying."

"Mr. Cade," the judge said very seriously, "I want you to choose your words very carefully and refrain from name calling." But even in this little outburst, calling his son a bastard and then little shit, Mr. Cade showed the jury his real attitude towards his son. Johnny frowned a little when his father said that. He still got hurt from things like that, unable to just hate back and not get hurt by stuff like that.

"Mr. Cade," the judge asked next, "do you and your wife have a drinking problem?"

"What problem ? The little…" he was going to say 'shit' again, but stopped himself in time, "he made all that up just to send me away to prison." At this point Mrs. Cade's crying became extremely loud and she was sobbing and being hysterical and still kept mumbling "I can't go to prison." The clerk had to take her outside, because she was disrupting the proceedings.

After that they were done, Mr. Lawrence decided not to cross examine, because it would only be repetitive of what they already established. Instead, he came up with a really strong closing argument, where he emphasized all the evidence that had been presented and urged the jury to make the decision based on that evidence and not on the unsubstantiated statements by Mr. Cade.

Johnny's parents' attorney also gave a closing argument, and again it was clear that he was not actually hoping to win this case, that he was not sympathetic of Cades in the least. He was just doing his job, since he was appointed to represent them. He had suggested all along that the Cades take the deal and plead guilty.

Now, as soon as defense closing argument was finished, the court was adjourned for the day. The jury would deliberate, and when they are done, all parties would be notified to attend the final stage of the trial.

"You did great, son," Johnny's lawyer patted him on the shoulder. "See it wasn't that bad after all, went by pretty quickly didn't it?"

" _You_ were great," Johnny replied, "thank you for everything." He offered Mr. Lawrence a hand, and he shook it.

"You'll see the verdict will be guilty. Did you notice that even their lawyer wasn't on their side? He was just doing formalities, because he was appointed to represent them, but he knows full well that they are lying, and the truth is on our side."

They started walking towards the exit, where they were met by Sam and Linda and Johnny's friends.

"Thank you very much," Linda said to Mr. Lawrence, "you were great out there."

"Thanks," Mr. Lawrence replied smiling. "Thanks for your help guys." He shook Dally's and Ponyboy's hands. Dally frowned a little and smirked as he shook the lawyer's hand. Dally wasn't used to being on the good side of the law.

In the meantime Two-Bit was telling Johnny how great he was, and how he was sure the verdict would be guilty. Just those pictures alone were enough to convict his parents, and they couldn't lie that he fell or got into a fight, because on the pictures it could be clearly seen that there were old marks along with the new ones, proving that Johnny was beaten regularly, because there are only so many times someone can fall or get into a fight to hurt himself so severely.

The jury didn't deliberate long – the case was pretty clear cut. Just those gruesome pictures alone could lead to conviction. And they had more than the pictures. They had testimonies that the Cades were alcoholics, and that they abused Johnny physically and emotionally. The trial ended at one on a Thursday, and by twelve on a Friday the jury reached a verdict.

All parties then were notified to appear in court on Monday for the conclusion of the trial.

All parties were seated, and a representative from the jury took the floor.

"Did the jury reach the verdict?" the judge asked in a grave voice.

"Yes, Your Honor, we did," the representative replied, and Johnny swallowed hard, getting ready to hear the verdict.

"We find the defendant William Cade guilty of assault in the second degree, and defendant Maria Cade assault in the third degree."

Johnny's mother started crying again.

"Therefore, I sentence," the judge spoke, "Mr. William Cade for felony class D to seven years in prison, and Mrs. Maria Cade for misdemeanor class A to one year in prison. In addition, they both lose custody of their son."

Johnny's mother got hysterical again, and Johnny shed a tear. He felt sad that it had to come to this, that he had to put his own parents in prison. He couldn't be happy about it. They were his parents. The ones that were supposed to care about him. He kept remembering pancakes at Ponyboy's house. And even though Mr. and Mrs. Thomas seemed nice, they would never take the place of his real parents.


	14. Chapter 14

**Ok here is chapter 14. Only 2 chapters left. Thank you everybody for reading, favoriting/following and reviewing. Happy 4** **th** **of July!**

Two weeks passed after the trial, and Johnny tried to put it out of his mind. He forced himself not to feel guilty for putting his parents in prison. He remembered how hurt he felt after the beatings, and on top of the physical pain how he felt humiliated and insulted, how low he felt, how there was no dignity left. Johnny's friends visited every weekend, and Johnny started to appreciate his new life. He appreciated that he didn't get a beating every day, and he still was able to hang out with his friends. He started to appreciate the kindness of his foster parents, who made it possible.

Johnny continued to meet with Ashley once a week. He was almost up to date on his math by now. They talked a little each time they met, and Johnny was drawn to her. The way she talked about things, and the way she had contempt and defiance for everything and everyone. Johnny didn't agree with that, but he could understand where she was coming from. In this cruel world it was easier to despise everything and everyone. It was her way of dealing with things, making sure that she didn't get hurt. Johnny wasn't like that. He was sensitive, and not hateful, but he found something attractive in Ashley's badass personality.

One day Johnny and Ashley were sprawled on the floor in Ashley's room, and they were actually doing math, as opposed to listening to music or talking, when they heard the front door open and then heavy footsteps in the living room.

"Oh, shit." Ashley paled.

"What's wrong?" Johnny asked apprehensively, and quickly getting up from the floor.

"It's my dad," Ashley replied, nervousness in her voice.

"So?" Johnny asked again, but before Ashley got a chance to answer, the door was opened without knocking, and Ashley's dad entered the room.

Johnny and Ashley were both standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Johnny was confused, not understanding what was wrong, and Ashley was visibly angry.

"Don't you know how to knock?" Ashley asked sarcastically.

"It's my house so I can come in anywhere I want any time I want. Now what did I tell you about visitors? You are not allowed to have any visitors, especially boys. Now Ashley, what were the two of you doing?" Ashley's face flashed beet red as he said that, and Johnny felt his face go hot, knowing full well that his face was turning red too.

"We were doing math." Ashley grabbed a notebook from the floor and shoved it at her dad. "It's a very interesting subject, you should try it," she said sarcastically. She looked like she wanted to spit. Only she wasn't outside, and she wouldn't do it in her own room.

"Maybe I should go," Johnny said awkwardly, gathering his notebook and the textbook from the floor. Then for a second he thought what if Ashley's dad was like his dad. What if he was going to punish her by beating her? Then he should probably stay. Maybe he wouldn't hit her if Johnny stayed.

"That makes two of us," Ashley said. "C'mon Johnny, we are leaving." They walked past Ashley's dad, who seemed taken aback for a moment, but only for a moment.

"You are grounded," he yelled at them, as they were getting out the door.

They walked in silence for a few blocks, both trying to calm down.

"Sorry," Ashley spoke up first.

"For what?" Johnny asked, putting both his hands in his pockets.

"That you had to witness that. Old creep, I hate him. He doesn't let me bring any of my friends over, he has a whole bunch of other rules that I hate, and most of all I hate him for what he did to my mother." She seemed to let her guard down, and Johnny found the courage to ask, "what about your mother?"

"My parents are divorced. I live with my dad, and I hate living with him. He cheated on my mom, and that's why they got divorced."

"Why couldn't you stay with your mom?"

"They didn't give her custody. See, I have a younger brother. He's only four. He needs a mother more than I do, and she couldn't get custody of both of us, because she doesn't have enough income, and other crap that they brought up in court. At the end I got stuck, living with this jerk and his shitty rules."

"Does he…" Johnny hesitated, "does he ever hit you or something?" he asked, holding his breath. She seemed shocked.

"Oh, no! He's a jerk and everything, but even he wouldn't do that."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Johnny said quietly, jamming his hands into his pockets again.

Now that she shared her story with him, he wished he could confide in her too. He wished he could tell her what he was going through with his parents, and that he was in foster care. He also realized at that moment that he was starting to develop feelings for Ashley. He cared about her, and he felt really bad about her situation. But what would she think of him if she knew the truth? She was so shocked when he asked her if her father was hitting her. Would she understand what he was going through, or would she judge him and stop hanging out with him?

They walked, not thinking about where they were going, and ended up in the school yard. It was empty now, after the school day was over, except for one person running laps. They sat down on a bench. It was nice out— the sun was shining bright, and there was something in the air. Something that made them relax.

"We can finish the stuff here," Johnny suggested.

"Sure," Ashley replied, "get your book and the notebook out." She left hers at the house.

"Ok." Johnny put his backpack on his lap, opened it and started to take out his math textbook. In the process, one of the sleeves of his jean jacket got pulled up, revealing all his scars and marks from the beatings. He didn't notice, and proceeded to take out the notebook. When he looked up, he saw Ashley staring at his arm.

"What?" He asked, following her gaze. He realized what had happened and quickly pulled his sleeve back down. Ashley kept staring at the arm, even though the scars weren't visible anymore. Considering Johnny's question about whether her dad hit her, she put the two together. She looked absolutely devastated.

"It's your dad isn't it?" she asked. Johnny nodded, not looking at her.

"C'mon it's ok." She tugged at the sleeve of his jacket. "It's ok to talk about it." And then she added, "I won't tell anyone, you know. So you don't have to worry about that. Talk to me," she said in a soft voice, which was so unlike her usual bitter and defiant self. And then the next moment, after Johnny didn't say anything, she was back to her usual bitter and defiant self." Why don't' you report him? You should report him," she said, despise in her voice.

"I know I could," Johnny replied, "but that meant the state would take me away, and I didn't want to lose my friends. They are everything to me. I didn't want to go to boys home either."

"What about your mom?" Ashley asked, unable to take her eyes of the spot on Johnny's arm, where she saw the scars. It was covered now, but she was still staring.

"She yelled at me most of the time. She saw all the beatings, and did nothing to stop my father." Now Johnny sounded a bit bitter himself. He inhaled deeply, like as if he was not getting enough air. He was looking down at his shoes, as if there was something of great importance there. He was unable to look Ashley in the eyes or even look at her at all. He felt like he was going to start crying.

"C'mon," Ashley tried to pat him on the shoulder, but he flinched. It was just a reflex.

"Sorry," she said.

"Oh, it's fine," Johnny replied. "It's just so fucked up, you know. I get home, and the only reason they notice I am there is for them to yell at me and beat the shit out of me. That's the only reason they notice that I'm there."

"Sorry," Ashley said. She didn't know what else to say. Her own problems with her dad seemed so small compared to what Johnny was going through.

"Anyway, it's all over now," Johnny added bitterly, while putting his hands into his pockets again.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, one time after my dad beat me really badly outside the house and the neighbor saw it and called social services. They started the investigation and everything. But the main thing was — they showed up at our house one day, looked around, saw my parents drunk, the place filthy and no food in the fridge. They took me away right then. Said it was unsafe for me to stay there." Johnny paused for a moment to catch his breath. He swallowed hard, and exhaled. "They found foster parents for me here. That's why I moved here. Before that I was in a boys' home for a while."

"Was it horrible?" Ashley asked.

"Nah, I got lucky. It was an ok place. The main thing was I got ok roommates. I've heard rumors about people being beaten by their roommates, gangs at the boys' homes, and bad personnel. I got lucky, my boys' home was ok, and they found foster parents for me."

"So how are they?" Ashley asked, look of compassion on her face.

"They are ok. They try to be nice and they try to do what's right by me. But no matter how nice they are, it still ain't the same as if my own folks cared about me, you know?

"I understand," Ashley replied, looking him in the eyes. "Now, I'm sorry to say that, but I think your parents are real jerks," she said with contempt. "Are they going to be doing time for what they'd been doing?"

"Yeah," Johnny said with a sigh instead of sounding happy about it, as Ashley expected him to be.

"The trial was on Thursday and Monday," Johnny explained. "That's why I wasn't at school. My dad got seven years in prison, and my mom got one year, and they both lost custody. I have no regrets. I don't want to go back there. C'mon, let's get this stuff over with," Johnny said, changing the subject, opening his notebook.

He felt good about telling Ashley the truth. He felt relieved, like he didn't have to carry the burden of the truth alone. Of course, his friends knew the truth, but that wasn't the same as having someone from his new environment know the truth. He sure couldn't tell Ryan and his friends, but he could tell Ashley, and he was really happy that she understood. He wasn't sure if she would. He was afraid that she would judge him.

They studied for a while, and then it started to get dark.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home," Johnny offered. They walked in silence for a while then Johnny asked, "Is your dad going to be mad when you get back?"

"Yeah."She smiled a mischievous grin, "he is going to be pretty pissed. Not the first time," she added with a smirk.

"What's he going to do?"

"He is going to try to ground me like he always does, and like always I'm still going to do whatever I want, and he can't do anything about it."

"Well,…just ,you know,…" Johnny hesitated for a moment, "…be careful."

"Oh, don't worry, Johnny, he is not going to lay a finger on me. Besides, I got him all figured out. I know how to push his buttons and when to push them."

"Alright, if you say so," Johnny smiled. They reached Ashley's house and said their good- byes.

Johnny started to walk back home. On his way, he was wondering how it happened that he had feelings for the girl that he had thought was mean, nasty and obnoxious when he'd first met her. And now he had feelings for her. He didn't know how and why it happened, he only knew that it happened. There was no denying it. He had feelings for Ashley Watson, badass Ashley Watson.

He felt bad about it, because she clearly didn't feel the same way. It was nice to confide in her, he had to admit, and she shared with him about her dad, but that was it. Besides, she kind of didn't have a choice, but to share about her dad, since he showed up in the middle of the day, and made a scene. If he didn't show up, she would not have shared her story. These were the thoughts that occupied Johnny's mind, as he was walking back home.


	15. Chapter 15

Finally, Johnny reached his house, well, his foster parents' house. He got his key out, opened the door and walked in. He had to go through the kitchen and the living room in order to get to his room. When he was still in the kitchen, he was able to see Linda, sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping through the pages of a photo album. She didn't notice him come in. He saw her wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, and he realized that she was crying. Johnny leaned on one of the chairs, and it moved making a squeaky noise. Linda jumped in her seat and saw Johnny in the kitchen. She quickly closed the photo album.

"Oh, hi," she said, trying to sound calm, "I didn't notice you come in."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Johnny said.

"Oh, that's fine, don't worry about it, I lost track of time. C'mon, I'll heat up your dinner. "

"Thanks," Johnny said, going through the living room and into his room, and wondering what that was all about. She was looking at pictures and crying. Johnny wanted to know what made Linda to cry. Was it some bad news she received? Were her parents ok? Did someone get diagnosed with cancer?

He wanted to know and at the same time he didn't want to know. Knowing other people's grief is not fun, especially when there is absolutely no way you can help them. You feel so helpless, and then it may be weird between you and the person, like you wouldn't know how to act around them, and they wouldn't know how to act around you. So Johnny wanted to know what was wrong, but at the same time he didn't want to know.

He wanted to just ask Linda, but she clearly didn't want him to know. That's why she closed the photo album right away when she realized that Johnny was in the house.

After dinner, when Linda was still in the kitchen, Johnny went to the living room. The photo album was no longer on the couch. He looked around the room. It wasn't on the table either. Then Johnny looked at one of the shelves and saw the photo album there. Making sure that Linda was still in the kitchen, Johnny quietly left the living room photo album in hand and went to his room. He settled down on his bed and started looking at the pictures. Johnny realized that any second Linda could walk in on him so he tried to be superfast. He flipped through a few pictures of Linda and Sam when they were younger and then there was a picture of a baby. Cute baby at that. Johnny flipped the page and another picture of the same baby was there. It was a boy, and he was sitting in a stroller. He was adorable. He had no hair, except for small patches of reddish hair right up front, almost on his forehead. He had big blue eyes and a cute smile.

Johnny flipped the page again. Now there was a picture of the same boy and Linda. He looked like he was four or five by then. He was wearing a cute blue outfit and a baseball hat, and he was holding Linda's hand. Linda had a huge smile on her face. So she had a son, Johnny thought, starting to get an idea. He kept flipping the pages and looking at the rest of the pictures. There was a family picture with Linda and Sam and their parents and the boy. He was probably around seven on that picture. There was a picture of the boy wearing baseball uniform, there was the boy and some girl holding hands, there was a picture with Linda and the boy and Sam, the boy standing in the middle between the two of them. He was around thirteen or fourteen on that photo. Then there was a photo of the boy alone, when he was about sixteen and it had a black frame around it and at the bottom it said 'Johnny Thomas 1950-1966.' So she had a son and he died. Johnny was shocked. Now he realized why Linda and Sam wanted a foster kid, and why they picked him. He was the same age and even the name was the same. That's where Linda got the suit Johnny wore to court. It must've been her son's.

Making sure that Linda was still in the kitchen Johnny tip toed to the living room and put the photo album back on the shelf. Then quietly, as to not attract Linda's attention he went back to his room. There he crashed on the bed, shocked by the new information that he discovered. Once again Johnny wondered why bad things kept happening to good people, like Linda, and nothing bad happened to shit parents like his.

He decided that he should talk to Linda. But maybe she didn't want to talk about it with anyone, since no one would be able to help anyway. So what's the point of telling them and talking about it? She, Johnny was sure, didn't want any pity. But he could talk to her, comfort her, make her feel better. He didn't want to pry, but wondered that maybe if she talked about it, she'd feel better. They were still not that close even though Johnny's been living there for a while now. Still he felt that he had to ask. He mustered up all his courage and went to the kitchen.

As he was passing through the living room, he could see Linda in the kitchen, cooking. She seemed a little disoriented, and she wiped her eyes again a few times. Johnny cleared his throat, as he walked in.

"Hey, what is it Johnny?" Linda asked, trying to fake a smile. "Do you need something?"

"No, I…. I don't mean to pry, but I just saw you crying, when I walked in, and now a few minutes ago. I saw you wipe your eyes." She seemed at a loss for words. She didn't think he saw her crying in the living room and now in the kitchen.

"You don't have to bottle it all up inside, you know. You can talk about it, it'll make you feel better."Johnny offered.

"No, nothing is going to make me feel better," she was sobbing all of the sudden. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and then stuck her head in the sink, letting cold water run on her face, neck and shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Johnny said, shocked to see her crying harder now than she did before. Idiot, he thought, look what you've done. He didn't know what to do. Should he leave now? Great, he thought, make her cry like that and then leave. He thought he should say something comforting, but at the moment he couldn't think of one thing to say.

"I just miss him," Linda was sobbing. "I miss him so much. I had a son, Johnny," she finally cracked and started talking about it. "He was your age. He died. He's dead, he is dead," she was sobbing louder.

"I'm so sorry, I really am." Johnny came closer to her, and gave her a hug. She fell into his embrace, and was sobbing on his shoulder.

"You want to know what happened?" she asked through sobs. And without letting Johnny say anything she added, "car accident. Stupid car accident. It was one of his older friends that was driving. Anyway, it wasn't his fault. It was the other car that bumped into them from the side, but the driver fled the scene, and they never found him. My son and his older friend both died in the hospital the same day. It was one week before his sixteen's birthday."

"I'm so sorry," Johnny said again. He instantly felt closer to her than he had been feeling all this time that he'd been in foster care. "I just want you to know that I really appreciate what you and Mr. Thomas are doing for me," Johnny said, biting his nails in between the words. "It might seem like I don't' appreciate it, since I don't talk much, but I do. I really appreciate it. I'm just not a talkative type. I'm pretty quiet. You can ask my friends. I'm the same way with them."

"Oh, really?" she smiled a little through her tears. "I'm so glad you said that Johnny. Sam and I…, we were wondering if we were doing something wrong, and if you hated it here."

"Oh, no. How can I feel that way? You saved me from a really awful situation."

"Yeah," she agreed, "as soon as I read your file, I knew that I had to get you out of there."

"Well, thank you for that," Johnny said shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another.

"Well, I'm glad we talked," Linda admitted, "I do feel better. I don't talk about it with Sam, because I don't want to upset him, and I don't talk to anyone else about it. I'm glad we talked," she said again. "Thank you Johnny," she smiled a little.

"You are welcome."

After that, Johnny went back to his room. He was trying to do his homework, but he couldn't concentrate. He kept thinking about Linda and Sam and their son, and how complicated life was, how life could bring together people with different circumstances like him and his abusive parents and Linda and her dead son.


	16. Chapter 16

**Ok so here is the last chapter. It turned out a little corny, but hopefully not too much. Many thanks to those who read, reviewed and favorited/followed my story. It kept me motivated to write more. Also I want to remind you I have a forum on here – The Dingo. www dot fanfiction dot net/forum/The-Dingo/168218 (had to spell out the dots since it wouldn't let me post a link on here) Anyway check out the forum and have some fun.**

April passed by quickly. Johnny was all caught up with his math by then, but Johnny and Ashley still met up to study the current stuff. It seemed they could do the work faster when working together, and it didn't seem as such a mundane, boring task when they did it together. They both hated math, and keeping each other company helped them get through it.

They kept studying at Ashley's house even after her father caught them once. His usual time to get home from work was six p.m., and they'd be done by then. It was just that one time that he got home early, and caught them.

Johnny fell head over heels for Ashley, but he couldn't get the courage to ask her out. He thought he didn't have a chance. Him –timid and quiet, and her – loud and outspoken, with her bitterness and contempt for everyone and everything.

She did seem to act somewhat nice towards him. She treated him better than she treated other people. Usually, she approached everything with cynicism and sarcasm. Johnny remembered how she approached the assignment to help him at first, and how she got upset that he beat her at pool, and told him to read the damn book. Her approach to their studying changed since then. She acted well, normal. But Johnny thought it would be too much to take it as a sign that she had feelings for him too.

One day, they were taking a break from math, and Ashley turned the radio on. They were sitting on the floor listening to the music. Then this song came up "I'm a believer" by The Monkeys. It got Johnny thinking. He was overwhelmed by his feelings for Ashley and he was absolutely terrified of letting her know how he felt but at the same time he was burdened by not telling her. "I'm in love, I'm a believer" the song was playing. Inspired by the song Johnny felt like he had to let Ashley know, like he had to say something to let her know how he felt even though he was sure the feeling was not mutual and she would only laugh at him, but he wanted to get it off his chest regardless. He knew he'd feel better then. So he mustered up all his courage and turned around so he was facing Ashley now. He inhaled deeply and cleared his throat.

"Um… Ashley…" he started. She looked at him confused by his hesitation. "You know…I was thinking…maybe…I'd understand if you don't but maybe you'd like to go out with me for a coke some time?" He stopped talking and his whole body tensed up in anticipation of what she was going to say. Johnny literally froze waiting for an answer, his face turning red.

"What, a date? How dare you," Ashley replied as if she was insulted. "We are strictly business, pal get it?"

"Sorry," Johnny said sheepishly and hung his head.

"You bought that?" Ashley burst into laughter. "I'm only playing, man. Sure I'll go with you."

"Really?" Johnny couldn't believe his luck. She was really agreeing to go out with him.

"So I'll pick you up tomorrow at six, how's that?" he hurried to ask before she changed her mind.

"That'll work. Just don't expect to be let inside the house as my jerk of a father will be home then."

"Sure, that's not a problem," Johnny said. He didn't know what else to say, so he started to sing along with the radio, and Ashley burst into laughter again.

On the way home, Johnny felt on cloud nine. He finally had it all. He had a nice home with two people, who cared about him and even though it wasn't the same as having his real parents care about him, it was still really nice. He had friends, that visited every weekend and they hung out together, and now he even possibly had a girl. Now for the first time in a long time he knew he was going to be alright.


End file.
